


Not a Hero

by InsaneFictionGeek



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, But it's there, Crime, Fluff, Is this too many tags, Minor Character Death, Multi, Omelettes, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Reiner and Bertl totally banged, Somewhere, We're sorry, but we'll try, happy ending probably, mainly JeanMarco, major character death probably, mild violence, mmm yes tase that tragedy, murder suspect!Marco, not exactly heavy in angst, on hiatus due to writer's block, shitty summary that my friend and I thought up in under 5 minutes is shitty, slow burn probably, some chapters will be sappy as fuck, the goddamn police, title will probably change, updates are not consistent, wow drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-06
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-03 03:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 38,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4084645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneFictionGeek/pseuds/InsaneFictionGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean hadn't known what to expect when he let the freckled bastard into his home-<br/>NOT THIS.</p><p>Cut a long story short:</p><p>Jean finds himself falling for Marco who is quite possibly a psychopath, but soon has to try stop himself from falling with a bullet in his brain (goddamn it Eren).<br/>No one really knows what's going on, including Jean, which could prove to be problematic.</p><p>Fluff, violence, angst (?), confusion, betrayal and way too much cheese to be decent. Also crappy chapter titles. Bear with it.<br/>Pairings include:<br/>Jean/Marco; Eren/Armin; Krista/Ymir; Mikasa/Annie; Connie/Sasha; (past)Levi/Petra; Levi/ Erwin; Hanji/science because Hanji is a single pringle and is very dear to my heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A wild Freckled Bastard appears!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello to whoever reading this story, I'm InsaneFictionGeek.  
> This fic was not actually written by me. It's my friend RainbowQueen's (who doesn't have an account) (I tried to get her to go with GayQueen but nooo), I only edit and make little changes. I hope you enjoy :)  
> ~~~  
> Sup. I'm RainbowQueen, author of this fic with the help of my amazing friend and editor InsaneFictionGeek. So anyways... this was a story idea that was buzzing around in my head for AGES and was annoying as hell. It has somehow ended up here (first fanfic! Whoop!) and hopefully it isn't too crap. Enjoy!  
> And I'm out.  
> -RainbowQueen  
> ~~~  
> Yep that's us. I hope you like it.  
> InsaneFictionGeek out

Jean Kirstein sat slouched on the couch, flipping through tv channels. A soap opera, A horror film, a news broadcast warning the public of a murderer on the run. Nothing particularly to Jean's taste. Nothing on TV ever was.

'The police are yet unsure of the whereabouts of the murderer of three children and warn the public, if they see him, to warn the police immediately and DO NOT APPROACH-"

Jean turned the volume down on the TV to a bare minimum. Beside him, his homework lay neglected in a messy pile. Bowls and plates stacked sky high behind him and dirty washing cluttering up the hall. The only sound was the loud buzzing of the tv.

He had the house to himself for the next month while his parents went on some business trip, so he might as well make the most of it. He'd already raided the kitchen and his room was a bomb site- even worse than the lounge. There were also a few posters on the walls of his bedroom his parents would NEVER approve of. His phone buzzed on the arm of the couch. Jean reached over with a lazy arm and glanced at it. It was Connie.

>Hey man- I'm with Sasha, Reiner and Bert at the park. Join us?

Jean typed in a hasty reply.

<Piss off Connie.

A moment later his phone rang. Sasha’s name flashed on the screen. Sighing, he answered the call.

"Yeah?"

"C'mon Jean! We're going to get food!"

"Hell no. I'm not shoplifting. I thought I told you guys to piss off anyway."

"But I'm so hungry Jean-"

"Then go with to your potato friends."

"Hey-"

He hung up, then turned the phone off, just in case. He wasn't in the mood for Sasha and Connie's mindlessness. Sure, they were okay and they definitely had their moments... but there was only so much Jean could take. He was still reluctant to even talk to them in PE after the incident of the self defense class. That had been one roller coaster of a lesson.

Bert and Reiner on the other hand... Well, they were his best friends. He would take a bullet for them if he had to. Maybe. Okay, He'd take a bullet in the leg for them. Bert and Reiner were your average, ideal best friends. Supportive, understanding and complete idiots. There were times when he could do without them as well.

And those were his friends, Connie, Sasha, Reiner and Bert. The five of them made a pretty good group. They didn't have dramas or fights or crises. They were generally the kids at the back of the class, making jokes and throwing paper airplanes. Jean was probably going to miss them when he went to college. One thing was for certain though.

He damn well wasn't missing them now.

Outside, it started to rain. Jean was silently relieved that he had chosen not to go out. The rain slanted down past the window, fast and heavy. Several people rushed by with their coats pulled up over their heads. Umbrella's were popping up all they way down the road. Jean smirked. Better them than him. He turned off the tv and walked up to the window. He leaned on the windowsill and looked out on the unlucky passers by. The rain didn't look like it was going to cease any time soon. He moved back to the couch and picked up a magazine, turning mindlessly through the pages.

There was a loud knock at the door, clearly distinguishable from the rain’s drumming. Jean glanced up towards the door. The knock came again, rushed and impatient. Jean stood up. What had his parents said about not opening the door to strangers?

"Excuse me?" Said a muffled voice. "Excuse me? Can you open the door please?"

The voice sounded young and definitely male. To hell with it, thought Jean. He got up and opened the door.

A tall, broad shouldered boy of about Jean's own age nearly collapsed inside, rainwater dripping all over the door mat. Jean caught his arm before he face planted and slammed the door shut behind them.

"I need help. Please!" The boy gasped urgently.

Jean tried to catch him as he fainted but he was too heavy. Jean winced as the boy hit the ground with a loud thump. Jean reached down tentatively and picked up the boy's wrist, finding a strong pulse. Now what? His first thoughts told him to leave the guy outside in the rain, but his second thoughts that sounded suspiciously like his mother's voice berated him for such a selfish thought and ordered him to help the guy.

As usual, mother won, despite her not even being there. Jean considered picking the boy up and leaving him on the couch to recover, then he remembered how heavy the guy was. He settled for dragging the boy across the floor by the back of his collar and leaving him in the middle of the lounge floor, face up.

Jean stared at him for a moment, unsure of what to make of the situation. The guy was hella cute, in his own way. He had a mop of neat black hair that was plastered to his forehead by the rain and a bunch of freckles scattered across his cheeks. He also looked like he had spent the last few nights sleeping under a bridge and hadn't eaten for days. Jean walked back into the kitchen to make dinner. The unconscious trespasser looked famished, there were dark rings under his eyes and his freckled cheeks were hollow. Jean decided it would be best to let him sleep for a while.

What a bastard though, asking a random stranger for help and then collapsing. He thought, cracking an egg into a frying pan and reaching across the counter for the milk. Who was he anyway? Why had he come to him of all people? Jean frowned, banishing the annoying questions from his head.

He finished the first omelette and started on a second. It was weird, but he felt that he had seen the guy's face before somewhere.... He probably looked like someone from tv. That was usually the case. Lost in thought, he flipped the omelette slightly more aggressively than he'd meant to. It landed in a messy pile. Jean swore and tried to flatten it. The freckled bastard had asked for help. Jean was still concerned about that. What kind of help?

He turned the stove off and carried two plates of messy omelette through into the lounge. Freckled bastard was still passed out on the floor. Jean set the food down and knelt beside him. After a moment's hesitation he slapped the guy's face. That was what you were meant to do, wasn't it? The boy groaned and Jean slapped him again. This time he opened his eyes. He had big, brown puppydog eyes which Jean practically melted into.

"Ow," the boy said mildly, gingerly raising a hand to his face.

"If you weren't expecting that, you shouldn't have passed out," Said Jean, valiantly trying to regain control of himself. "I made dinner."

He waved a hand in the general direction of the omelettes. The freckled bastard gave a longing moan and closed his eyes again.

"How long it's been since I had dinner!" He muttered.

"A long time if you don't bloody eat it now. I don't have all night."

The boy raised himself up into a sitting position and took the offered plate. Jean watched in fascination as the guy shovelled the food into his mouth with the urgency of a man with only a day left to live. Jean barely picked at his own, he'd somehow ended up with the disaster omelette. The freckled bastard finished scraping every last morsel from his plate. He looked up with a grateful smile.

"Thanks! I'm Marco, by the way."

Jean couldn't help smiling shyly back. He immediately made up for his moment of weakness with a sneer.

"Jean."

They shook hands. Marco's hand was strong but surprisingly gentle, like Marco was holding delicate china. He'd expected his fingers to be broken. Behind them, the sun poked through the rainy clouds, its bright rays shone through the window.

"You said before you fainted that you needed help."

"Uh, sorry about that," Said Marco awkwardly. "I just need somewhere to stay the night and I saw your face through the window and thought you looked like a nice guy. Anyway, as you probably saw, I wasn't in the best condition and really needed a sheltered place to recover."

"Why not a friend's house?"

"Um, I'm not from around here. I have no where to go," said Marco, his face going pink and looked to the side. Jean ignored the blatant lies. It was Marco's business, not his.

"I still think you should find somewhere else to stay. There's a hotel not far from here."

"I want to stay here! I don’t have any money on me." Protested Marco, a bit too quickly. "Please, Jean?"

It may have been the fact that Marco had nowhere to go, or maybe it was just the way he'd said Jean's name, but Jean immediately knew he'd lost. He sighed reluctantly.

"Fine."

"Thanks! I knew you'd say yes."

Then, Marco's eye caught on something and he pointed enthusiastically.

"You have a wii? Awesome! Can I play?"

 

***

"DIE YOU FUCKING FRECKLED BASTARD! WHY WON'T YOU DIE?"

"I'M ON YOUR TEAM! WE SHOULD BE WORKING TOGETHER!"

"FUCK THAT! YOU SHOULD BE DEAD BY NOW!"

"TITAN INCOMING, THREE O'CLOCK!"

Jean swore loudly over the blasting music and jerked his controller to the side. On the screen, his avatar swerved and narrowly avoided the gaping mouth of the deviant type titan. Marco bashed into Jean, swiping his controller down and in the game, the titan fell to the ground, a gaping wound in it's neck where Marco's avatar had cut it.

"YES! I'M WINNING!"

"WHAT HAPPENED TO BEING ON A FUCKING TEAM YOU BLOODY HERO?"

"I WAS HELPING YOU!"

Jean snorted loudly. A huge titan suddenly appeared on the screen. Jean dived to the ground but Marco was too late. The titan leaned down, picked up his avatar and...

GAME OVER.

"Fuuuck," groaned Marco.

Jean dropped his controller and walked to the stereo, turning the deafening music down.

"I win!" He gloated.

Marco put his own controller down on the coffee table and smiled at him. Jean grinned back. Together they turned back to the wii.

"What game now?" Asked Marco.

***

 

Looking back, karaoke had probably been a bad idea, mainly because neither of them could actually sing.

Jean lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the crazy night and trying to forget some parts of it too (ie, his solo performance of the titanic love theme). Marco was on the couch downstairs, probably asleep. They were both exhausted after an evening spent screaming at the playstation in very... colourful language.

Jean rolled over onto his stomach and shoved his face into his pillow, mussing up his hair. Soft snoring drifted up through the floor from downstairs. Who was that freckled bastard? He'd barged into Jean's home, passed out, eaten his food and played video games. Jean had never even seen him before now! Then again, his face did seem oddly familiar... Jean pushed the thought away. He'd already tried and failed to remember where he'd seen it before. He wondered again why Marco had come to him needing help- and why he had passed out. A million theories buzzed through his tired head, none making much sense. He would have to ask again later. In the morning, he thought, falling asleep.

***

 

"Of course I'm being careful, what do you take me for?"

Jean stirred slightly, his mind rising into consciousness like the living-dead.

"No, no, I- yeah... Yeah, he knows my name... He's Jean Kirstein. You won't know him."

His eyes peeled open slowly. He'd heard his name. It was still pitch black in his room and his clock read 3:00am. It took him a moment to realise that it was Marco's voice he could hear, echoing through the house in a loud whisper.

"Yes, of course I'm safe... Wait... Say that again?"

Jean's curiosity overcame his desire to go back to sleep. He threw back the blankets and crept onto the landing to hear the conversation better.

"No way! Shit, how did they know I was there? No, it wasn't me! Why would you say that? Yeah, yeah I guess so... Where? Ok, I'll leave in the morning. Happy? Don't answer that. Ok, bye."

There was a small beep from the phone. Jean could barely make out Marco's hissed swear, it was so quiet. Marco's tall shadow fell on the stairs and Jean nearly fell back into his room. He jumped into his bed and pulled the covers up to his chin, feeling a bit childish.

A moment later he heard Marco's soft footsteps pass by the staircase and into the downstairs living room. A minute later he could hear his snores. However, Jean could be barely sleep. His mind was ablaze trying to make sense of what he had heard.


	2. Fuck Mondays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiyo! RainbowQueen here! Chapter two is out a little early (yay!) Thanks heaps to everyone who left kudos/comments! Ugh, I'm using too many exclamation marks :/ anyway, enjoy chapter 2 :)  
> RainbowQueen out
> 
> Heeellllllo hello hello, it's InsaneFictionGeek  
> Thank you to whoever left kudos and a comment, we really appreciate it :)  
> Here is chapter 2. Hope you enjoy  
> InsaneFictionGeek out

 

"Hey Armin."

Armin looked up from his desk, pen poised above the paper. There were dark rings under his eyes.

"Oh, hi Eren."

Eren drew a chair over and sat down beside Armin, one hand resting lightly on his shoulder.

"Still haven't finished that report, huh?"

Armin sighed and straightened his papers, looking despairingly down at his unfinished work.

"No. Levi wants it in by morning. I don't know how I'm going to reach the deadline though."

"I'll finish it for you, I'm off duty now anyway. You go get some rest."

"I suppose I should," Armin said with a yawn.

Eren reached past Armin and gently removed the pen from Armin's ink stained hands. Their fingers brushed for a moment and they both paused. Armin blushed slightly and tried to pull away but Eren grabbed his wrist. Armin looked up and was surprised to see Eren was blushing too. Eren. whom he had known. Since they were children.

"Armin,-"

"I hope you were planning on cleaning away that coffee cup, Arlert."

Armin yelped and toppled out of his chair. Eren leapt backwards as if scalded. Levi was slouched in the doorway to his office, treating them to his usual deadpan glare.

"Uh, y-yes sir. Right away sir."

Armin stumbled to his feet, snatching up the offending cup and wiping away the dark coffee ring left behind on the desk with his sleeve.

"Tch," muttered Levi, vanishing back into his office.

Eren and Armin both took a moment to recover from Levi's interruption. Both were terrified of the short man, though neither would admit it. Eventually Armin turned back to Eren.

"So I suppose I should be going," he said drowsily.

"Yeah," Said Eren, "I've got this, Armin. You go rest."

Armin nodded and turned towards the door. He was just about to open it when the door burst open anyway, nearly sending him flying across the room. He jumped back just on time. Two women came running through, both out of breath and panting heavily. Mikasa and Annie, the strongest officers on the police force. Annie's hair was coming messily out of it's tight bun and Mikasa's well worn scarf was coming loose. Both struggled to form words as the door swung shut behind them.

"Mikasa! Annie!" Gaped Armin.

Eren stood up abruptly, knocking his chair back.

"Mikasa! Are you guys okay? We weren't expecting you back until tomorrow! What's going on? Have you got any news? Why didn't you call-"

"Oi, Jaeger!"

Levi was back in the doorway.

"Yes, sir?"

"Shut up."

Levi strode into the room, brushing past Eren who had frozen mid sentence and was now gaping like a fish.

"You better have some news," Said Levi, "I wasn't expecting you back until tomorrow."

Mikasa opened her mouth but Annie got there before her.

"We found him."

The whole room went still. Everyone was holding their breath. At last Levi spoke.

"Go on..."

 

***

 

Daytime was an unwelcome occurrence. Sunlight lit up Jean's room and danced on the walls. Cars drove by on their way to work. Jean's alarm beeped loudly and persistently, announcing the beginning of monday. Fuck mondays. Jean rolled unceremoniously out of bed and onto the floor. The impact woke him fully and he groaned, standing up from a mountainous pile of tangled sheets. Breakfast, he thought. That's what I need.

He stumbled downstairs and into the kitchen. To his surprise, there was a plate of neatly stacked pancakes awaiting him. That freckled bastard. Jean approached the table hungrily. There was a note beside the pancakes. Jean picked it up.

_Thanks for everything Jean! I have to be off but I thought I'd make you breakfast to return the favor (Those omelettes were amazing!) Maybe one day we'll meet again. Thanks again!_

_Marco._

_PS. burn this note. Don't ask why, just do it._

_PPS. It would be much appreciated if you didn't tell anyone about me._

Jean stared at the note for a minute, then backed out of the kitchen. Gone? The freckled bastard couldn't be gone! Then he remembered the whispered phone call at three in the morning. He pushed open the lounge door and looked inside. It was clearly deprived of freckled bastards. Marco had even taken the time to clear up. There was nothing left to suggest he'd been there.

 

Jean went back into the kitchen, sat down and ate the pancakes. They were surprisingly good. Somehow that just made things worse. Jean had actually started to like the guy- it was hard not to. He had been hoping he'd stay longer, maybe eventually tell him who he really was. No such luck. Jean had a horrible feeling that he'd never see the guy again.

He read the note through one more time, then dropped it on the stove. It was best to follow Marco's instructions, even if they made no sense. Maybe it would be best just to forget him.

Jean went back upstairs, changed into his uniform and grabbed his bag. As much as he hated it, school might be able to clear his head a bit. He found his phone placed neatly on a shelf in the lounge (That freckled bastard) and turned it on. He had seven missed calls. He listened to the messages without much interest. Five of them were from Connie, the other two Reiner and Bert. Sasha had obviously been too offended by his potato comment to call again.

He wondered what they would say when he told them about his mysterious visitor, then remembered that Marco had asked him not to. That would be hard, Jean was a naturally honest person, even if it meant getting him, or others into trouble. He sighed, picking up his keys and leaving the house.

 

***

 

After several hours of bullshitting his way through lessons, lunch was a welcome break. Jean almost ran from chemistry to his usual place behind the art rooms. His friends were waiting for him there. Sasha was already half way through her lunch.

"Jean! Where were you man? Why didn't you come round yesterday?" Demanded Connie.

"Yeah, Jean! What were you up to?" Asked Sasha.

"Just stuff."

Jean sat down between Bert and Reiner and took out his lunch. Connie immediately launched into a story of how Sasha had fallen into the duck pond. Jean ignored him as best he could. Beside him, Reiner leaned over and muttered in his ear, "Hey man, what's wrong?"

Jean didn't ask how Reiner knew something was up, the guy just always seemed to know.

"I met a guy."

"Like, accidently bumped into him crossing the road and now you're going out for romantic dinners and sharing toothpaste?"

"Um, no. He sort of passed out in my doorway then played on the wii."

Reiner and Bert both stared blankly at him. Jean suddenly remembered Marco's request. Fuck. He was too far gone now.

"Is he still there?" Asked Bert.

"Nah. He left this morning."

"Sucks man."

And that was it. His friends' words of wisdom. Jean guessed he really shouldn't have expected better. It wasn't like he was romantically attached to the bastard either, he was just... confused. Confused about everything. God, Marco... No, he had to stop thinking about him. This was going to drive him insane.

Jean finished his lunch, laughing at Connie's jokes when required and hiding his food when Sasha got too close, but his mind was far away. All too soon the bell rang. They picked up their bags and headed to class.

It was English now, Jean's least favourite. He had nothing against the subject, but the teacher... well. He sat down at a desk and Connie took the seat next to him. The teacher came in in his usual fashion, shouting so loudly the birds on the building opposite took flight. Jean had no idea why the crazy guy took english. His whole body screamed PE.

Beside him, Connie leaned over and whispered, "What's up? You're acting weird."

"Nothing" Jean hissed.

He leant back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He wandered vaguely whether Marco would hate English. Probably not, the guy seemed incapable of hating anything.

"I'm not stupid Jean! I know everyone thinks I am, but I'm not. Something's wrong."

"I'm telling you, I'm fine!"

He looked up to see the whole class staring at him.

"You won't be fine much longer if you speak out of turn in my class Kirstein!" The teacher shouted.

Jean knew better than to answer back. He would only be digging his grave deeper. The teacher turned back to the whiteboard and scribbled down some notes. Jean opened his book and copied everything out furiously. Connie reluctantly turned back to his own work. It was a relief when the bell went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading guys. I promise the story line shall progress more as the chapters go on. Leave a comment!  
> RainbowQueen out  
> ~~~  
> Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed.  
> Leave a comment to tell us what you think :)  
> InsaneFictionGeek out


	3. The Return of the Freckled Bastard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! RainbowQueen here. So chapter 3 is here (at last). A bit more action in this chapter and the plot finally progresses. Yay! I've been planning the story out a bit more and it's gonna be great, so much better than what I've got so far :) Enjoy chapter 3!  
> RainbowQueen out

Jean ran from his last class, determined to be one of the first out. He didn't want to have to face his friends. He didn't need them to tell him he was acting weirdly. He knew he was acting weirdly. The problem was he couldn't really explain why. It had to be because of that Freckled Bastard Marco, but no one was going to understand that. Not even Reiner and Bert.

He left the school grounds and turned home. Jean’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He turned it off, not wanting to see which friend was trying to call him. He just needed some sleep, that was all. He was sure this would all look better in the morning and he would be able to forget that Marco had ever fainted on his doorstep.

He turned onto his street and stopped, his mouth dropping open. There were police cars outside his house. The whole street had been blocked off by yellow tape, wrapped around the lampposts. There was even more tape across his front door. What...?

Jean ducked under the tape and walked hesitantly towards his house. There were no police officers in sight, they seemed to all be in his house. Why were there police officers in his house?

Instead of going through the front door he crept around the side where he knew were lots of windows. Crouching down so he wouldn't be seen, he peered over a window sill. He was looking into the kitchen which had been completely trashed. Standing in the middle of the mess were two police officers, one asian woman, one man with messy brown hair, conversing in low voices.

"I don't think he's here anymore Mikasa. We should go after him," Whispered the man.

"It's not safe Eren! You shouldn't just go charging after him."

"But what if he does it again? I have to stop him."

"You know that if you go, I will too."

The man kicked a chair in frustration. A leg went flying across the room. Jean suddenly had a horrible premonition of what would happen when his parents got back. The woman looked out the window, frowning slightly, and Jean ducked down.

"What do you think Armin?"

"Well, I think it's obvious that he's no longer here. We should have forensics in, just to check over things."

This was a new voice. Jean couldn't tell the gender.

"Hanji's going to have a field day. We haven't had a case like this in a while."

"HEY- YOU!"

Jean spun around. There was a policeman running towards him, with a gun drawn and aimed at him. There was a crack as a bullet split the pavement beside him. There were shouts from inside the house and more officers came outside. Another bullet ricocheted off the path. Jean scrambled to his feet.

"STOP IN THE NAME OF THE LAW"

Screw that. Jean ran.

Gunshots cracked behind him and bullets bounced off the pavement by his feet. Jean twisted away down the street and sprinted around a corner, panting heavily. There were shouts behind him and he ran even faster, ducking through narrow streets. Police sirens wailed after him.

Unexpectedly, a police car swerved in front of him and he tried to stop. His feet skidded and stumbled and he lurched forward. He fell fast. Too fast. The pavement rose up to meet him. His arms lunged wildly

Then there was a hand, an arm.

It caught him just before he hit the ground. Jean looked up to see his savior.

It was Marco.

It was Marco and it was Marco and he was here and everything in Jean's body was screaming for joy and the freckled bastard was pulling him to his feet, leaning in and whispering, "Run."

And they did.

Marco looked back at him and smiled, running even faster. Forget the police. They were racing the wind together, racing time.

"They're shooting at us! Why are they shooting at us?"

"No time to explain!"

The cars around them started to thicken and the buildings steadily got taller. Marco stayed a hair’s breadth away from the walls and buildings lining the pavement. Jean tried to pick up the pace and run beside him but Marco shoved him back.

"Don't go into the open!" Gasped Marco.

"Why not?"

Marco pointed upwards, where helicopters were circling above them.

"Fuck."

Crowds of people filled the street. Marco charged through them, pulling Jean along, yelling hasty apologies. They didn't slow down, despite the pain in his chest and imminent danger ahead.

Everything was a blur. The only things in focus were himself and Marco. Who cared who he was? They were flying. They spread their wings through the dimming sky. They caught the twilight air and pushed it behind them. If everything else was left behind Jean wouldn't care.

He could feel every stone against his feet. He could feel the wind, once sleepy, now whipping angrily at his face. He could feel Marco's hand closed around his wrist. He felt alive. He felt wonderful. It occurred to Jean that he was probably hysterical to be thinking like this.

They kept running. Jean was, for the first time in his life, thankful for PE and Bert and Reiner’s early morning runs. They were entering the heart of the city now. Marco slowed his pace to a fast walk.

"We're safer around people." Marco explained.

Jean fell into step beside him.

"Through here."

Marco lead him into the shadows of a short alleyway. They finally stopped. All at once Jean's delusion ended, bringing back the harsh reality. There were a few minutes of silence in which both of them tried to get their breath back. At last, Marco turned to face Jean, looking apologetic.

WHAM

Jean's fist flew into Marco's shoulder.

"OW!"

"What the hell was that, you freckled bastard?"

"I was trying to help! The police were shooting at you incase you didn't notice."

"Of course I fucking noticed! How could I not fucking notice? I nearly died!"

Marco stepped back, rubbing his shoulder.

"I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"

Jean paused for a moment, fist still raised.

"How is this your fault?"

Marco paused too, his hand pressed to his shoulder where Jean had punched it. His face was drenched with sweat.

"I thought you were accusing me of everything being my fault."

"I know it's your fault, you freckled bastard. Any idiot could work that out. But how?"

"Oh."

Jean looked directly at Marco, trying to draw an answer, but Marco averted his eyes, staring awkwardly at the ground, his face slightly pink. Something inside Jean's head finally clicked.

"Oh fuck. You're a criminal aren't you? You're a fucking criminal!"

"No- Jean, I swear-"

"That's where I've seen you before!" Jean smacked his forehead angrily. "You were on the news!"

"Jean- listen, it wasn't me!"

But Jean was too far gone now. He started backing away, tearing at his hair.

"You're a murderer! You killed those kids! Oh my god, you're a murderer! I helped a murderer!"

Marco's face was slowly going red. His hands balled themselves into fists at his side. Meanwhile Jean was starting to hyperventilate. Marco let out a deep breath, stepped forward and slapped Jean hard across the face. Jean yelped and clutched at his cheek. There were a few moments of tense silence. Slowly, Jean looked up.

"Ow," He said, more confused than hurt.

"If you weren't expecting that you shouldn't have shouted."

Jean looked up into Marco's face, searching for some explanation, some thread of truth.

"Jean," sighed Marco, "I didn't do it. I was framed."

"...Oh."

But Jean wasn't entirely convinced. If Marco was innocent, why hadn't he gone to the police? The same reason he, himself, had run from them? But then, what was that? He had run because he was afraid. If Marco was innocent, surely there was no need to be afraid. Unless Marco was guilty.

Jean sat down on the sidewalk and Marco sat a safe distance away, head in his hands.

"I'm sorry about the police and everything. You can't go home now, I guess. They'll be after you too."

"Great. That's just great."

Marco put a hand on Jean's shoulder and squeezed slightly.

"I really am truly sorry. I should never have come to your house. I got you into this mess."

Marco stood up and walked away. Jean sat frozen in place, watching him go. Unbidden, his mouth opened.

"WAIT!"

Marco stopped and turned. Jean blushed slightly, cursing his outburst. Not that he wasn't pleased Marco had stopped...

"It would make more sense for me to go with you, right?" He asked. "Now that we're both on the run... I think."

Marco's face split into a wide grin.

"I thought you didn't want to be anywhere near me," He said sheepishly.

"No way, man. I don't think I'd last five minutes without you." _And it's not like I've got any other choice_ , he added silently to himself. _Hand myself in for doing nothing wrong to the people who have guns, or hang around with a weaponless potential murderer._

"But," Marco gestured to his bruised shoulder vaguely. "You hated me."

"Times change," Jean lied. "C'mon."

He jogged up to where Marco was standing and slapped his back.

"Where now?"

***

It turned out that 'where now' was an abandoned warehouse by the docks. Jean looked up at the old building doubtfully. A slate slid slowly off the roof and shattered on the ground a few meters away.

"Cosy," muttered Jean.

"It's not too bad when you get used to it," Said Marco. "By the way, I'm staying here with two other girls. You should be careful around them, they're dead scary when you get them annoyed."

Jean nodded slightly but didn't move.

"Well come on then!"

Reluctantly, Jean let Marco pull him inside. He had been much more keen to follow Marco around when it had just been the two of them. It gave him a better chance of beating Marco in a fight. He hated the fact that they wouldn't be alone, that there would be two other girls to put up with. Also, the whole building looked like it was about to fall in which did not improve it's homely aspect.

The moment he stepped inside there was a knife against his throat. This did not help.

"Ngmf?" Jean gulped.

The knife pricked his adam's apple.

"So, Marco Polo, who's the horse?"

The voice was low and husky with a bitter, sarcastic twang to it. There was a high pitched giggle from behind them. Jean felt his face going red.

"Please don't hurt him Ymir, he's the guy I told you about."

The knife was removed and Jean allowed himself to breath again. Well now at least he was pretty certain who Marco had been talking to over the phone. Somewhere beside him, Marco was scolding the knife-holder about her manners.

"He was with me! That's no way to treat our guests."

Jean turned around wearily. The knife-holder was a young woman with shaggy dark hair and tanned skin. She was glaring at Marco as he took the knife from her and waved it in front of her face.

Behind them both was a short blonde who was smiling slightly as she looked at Marco and the other girl, with the expression of one contentedly familiar with the situation. Ymir finally seemed to tire of Marco's lecture because she snatched her knife back and stormed away.

"Sorry about that," muttered Marco. "We're all a bit on edge, what with..." He trailed off but Jean knew he was referring to the police. "Anyway. This," he pointed at the blonde, "is Krista and that girl who tried to decapitate you is Ymir- both are under fake names of course- at least, Krista is. I advise you do the same now that you... well, now that you're in the same sort of situation."

Krista walked forward and stuck out a hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Jean shook it hesitantly, half expecting her to crush his hand into tiny fragments, despite her tiny size. She nearly did too, her grip was stone hard. A voice echoed through the warehouse; Ymir's.

"I'm taking it that the police didn't take to our new houseguest then?"

"Not one bit!" Marco called back. "They were quite rude actually, kept shooting at him. They came very close to hitting him! I guess that's the military police for you, the definition of police brutality."

There was a ‘tch’ and what sounded like Ymir muttering 'typical'. Jean tried to ignore it. Marco was right- the police had been far too close. But maybe that had been a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yup. Chapter 3. Hopefully that was ok. Ymir was introduced! My absolute favourite character (sorry Armin). Poor Jean is very confused. Chapter four is going to contain a bit of fluff and a whole lot of nerds :) Until then, adios!  
> RainbowQueen out


	4. Damn it Eren

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing the police. May or may not be lovey-dovey. (It totally is)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Thanks to all of you who read, commented and left kudos. We appreciate it. :)  
> (No, I don't know what's up with the title. I can't title things for shit)  
> And here is chapter 4, hope you enjoy.  
> InsaneFictionGeek out  
> Thanks heaps guys! I honestly expected no one to read this :) This chapter was so much fun to write. Ciao!  
> RainbowQueen out

"We were so close!"

Eren slammed a hand down on the table to demonstrate his frustration. Levi glared pointedly at it until Eren removed it, slightly flushed.

"Eren's right," murmured Mikasa. "That's the closest we've been to actually catching him. If only the military police hadn't started shooting at him..."

"Not that it matters."

Everyone turned to stare at Armin who was sitting next to Eren, chin resting on his hands. Armin looked flustered at the sudden attention but carried on regardless.

"I mean, we're no closer to finding him. He's certainly not going to go back to that house now. Where is he hiding now? It could be anywhere. And what about that other kid as well? Is he a hostage or an accomplice? We keep looking for answers but all we get is twice as many questions!"

"I still don't get why we can't get a warrant for a full search," said Eren.

"Because no one else wants to get involved and the military police want to close the case," Annie muttered. There was a collective sigh from the officers. Levi lifted his cup slowly to his mouth in that weird, backwards way of his and took a long sip. When he put his tea down his face was serious and a touch disdainful.

"We've gone overtime. You all might as well go, it's not like our heads are going to be any less full of shit if we stay here anyway."

The busy sound of shuffling papers filled the air and then everybody was standing up. Mikasa and Armin were fussing over Eren as usual, packing away his things while he complained loudly about the military police and their unwillingness to 'aid humanity' and 'uphold the law'. Just as they were about to leave the door burst open, nearly knocking Armin over again. Hanji appeared in the doorway, glasses askew and hair flying messily out of its ponytail.

"Levi, can I have a word?"

"Yeah, as long as it is just 'a word'. I don't have time for your shitty lectures." Levi waved a hand at his squad who had all hesitated at Hanji's sudden appearance. They filed past the eccentric forensic, none making eye contact in case of receiving Hanji's infamous speeches.

Eren was the last to leave. He looked up just as he was going and accidentally caught Hanji's eye. Hanji grinned madly at him, glasses flashing.

"Eren! It's been so long! Hey, I've put some thought into that question you asked me last year and I think-"

"Not now Hanji, please!" Pleaded Eren. "I have places to be."

Eren tried to push past them but Hanji grabbed his arm, talking quietly.

"And would those places be, by chance, wherever a certain blonde is?"

To Eren's horror, Hanji pointed at Armin's retreating back and winked.

"Don't worry, you can tell me everything later. I promise I won't tell."

Hanji let Eren go and he ran from the room, blushing furiously.

  


When they were outside Annie left immediately without saying a word. Mikasa hesitated for a moment before turning to Eren and Armin. She paused briefly when she saw Eren's face. For some peculiar reason, his cheeks were tinged pink. She shook her head, deciding it was none of her business. For now.

"Is it okay if I'm late back? I have a book to return to the library."

Eren and Armin nodded, turning away towards home. They walked in silence for a minute until they were out of sight from the main road and then both spoke at once;

"Hey, Armin, I know it's weird but-"

"Eren, I've been meaning to tell you this for a long time-"

They both stopped talking and blushed. Their shoulder's bumped uneasily together as they walked on.

"You first," Said Eren.

"No, you."

Eren blushed again and averted his eyes. Hanji's words kept popping into his head like an annoying, catchy song.

"Uh, I was just going to say that- uh, I think there's something weird going on with this new case. Something big."

"Yeah, I was going to say that too," Armin muttered.

They reached the apartment they shared with Mikasa and Eren dug around in his pockets for the keys. Armin waited patiently, watching Eren. Eren at last located his keys and unlocked the door. As the climbed the stairs Armin tapped Eren's elbow.

"Do you think Mikasa's okay?"

"Huh?" Eren stopped, his expression slightly dazed as if he had just been pulled from deep thought. "Mikasa? 'Course she is."

"Hm."

Armin frowned and entered the living room. The walls were plastered with photos and news cuttings, bits of yarn joining them together. Armin studied them for a moment, unaware of Eren staring, not at the wall, but at him.

"There is something funny about that case, isn't there?"

"Mm."

Eren forced himself to turn away and busied himself with making tea. Armin examined the wall for a couple more minutes, then walked over to fridge and took out the milk. It was a comfortable routine, making tea. Strange though it was, it was Armin's favourite part of the day, standing safe beside Eren, with nothing and no-one to disturb them, excluding Mikasa, who was almost never around anymore anyway.

"Here."

Eren pushed a mug into Armin's hands. Armin could feel the warmth spreading up through his arms. It felt nice. Homely. Eren was holding his own one.

"Thanks," muttered Armin.

He took a self conscious sip, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"TV?" Asked Eren.

Armin nodded and sat down on the sofa, leaving Eren to go on a wild hunt for the remote. Eren had to search the room for a good ten minutes before at last he found it- where it was supposed to be, of course. He settled down beside Armin who by now had finished his tea and was dozing off. The moment Eren sat down Armin snapped himself back to attention.

"What do you want to watch?" Asked Eren.

Armin shrugged. He wasn't really a TV person, preferring to read books when possible. The only problem with reading books was that Armin couldn't read them with Eren. Books were just not something they could both enjoy.

Eren sighed and selected a random channel. He leant back and the couch sagged in the middle, which meant Armin had to put effort into not leaning on Eren. Eren seemed oblivious to this, eyes fixed to the screen. The room was warm and dark and the TV screen was dim. Armin could feel his eyes trying to shut. His mind drifted in and out of focus. He vaguely thought about how nice it would be to just lean sideways, rest his head on Eren's shoulder and simply fall asleep. But he couldn't do that. Definitely not.

  


Eren's heart stuttered to a halt as Armin gently toppled sideways onto him. Eren let eyes flit from the TV onto his friend, careful not to move his head so as not to dislodge Armin's which was resting peacefully on his shoulder. Armin was curled up on the sofa, leaning soundly into Eren's side, fast asleep. Eren smiled and ran a hand affectionately through Armin's hair. He could get used to this.

 

***

 

Mikasa hadn’t gone to return a book. The minute everyone had left she'd darted back inside the building, flashing her identity at security. She climbed swiftly up to the third floor and paused outside the main office. Voices were drifting through the closed door, muffled and agitated. Mikasa could pick out the voices of Hanji and Levi, raised slightly in argument.

"All I'm saying is-"

"All you're saying is what we already know."

"But there is the possibility that there were people in the house after Bodt and Kirstein! That's why the house was trashed."

"What you've told me isn't going to change anything," hissed Levi. "Those brats in the military police won't give us free range over the case for this shit. Even that bastard Erwin won't be able to make a good enough case with this."

"But it's important!"

Mikasa could hear the whine in Hanji's voice, masked behind the madness.

"You think I don't know that? I'm done with this shit."

Mikasa gasped and pulled into the shadows as footsteps approached the door. A second later it opened and Levi stormed through, closely followed by Hanji who was tagging behind him like a kicked puppy. Neither of them noticed Mikasa.

She slipped in through the door just as it was closing. It was dark, the only light coming from the dim streetlights below. It gave the room a ghostly aura, spooky, as if there was a mad axe murderer hiding in every shadow. Mikasa didn't dare turn the lights on. She found her way the room by touch until at last, she came to Annie's desk.

She had been putting off doing this for a while. Everytime Annie did something strange, looked at her phone for a bit too long, seemed to know more than she could, Mikasa had looked away. Not this time. Finding Bodt's hiding place had been too perfect, too fortunate. The tip-off seemed half expected by Annie. The whole thing seemed planned. Mikasa was almost certain that Annie was up to something. She knew she should tell Levi, Eren, somebody! But... not yet. She wanted to be sure. Maybe Annie was innocent. Mikasa was reluctant to accuse her of anything until she knew, and even then- no, if Annie was guilty of... whatever it was she was doing Mikasa would have to report her. Just not yet. She could handle this herself.

The papers on the desk were sloppily splayed out around the computer. Purposefully? Mikasa began by lifting each one carefully from it's place, holding it right up to her face so that she could just make out the words, skimming through it, then replacing it just as carefully. Nothing of interest. She examined the sticky notes on the edge of the computer screen. IOUs and coffee bills. The only things left to search now were the draws. Mikasa reached out to one.

Click. Mikasa spun around, heart caught in her throat as the lights flickered on. Annie, of all people, was in the doorway, hand on the lightswitch. She was wearing her usual, deadpan, 'touch me and I'll kill you' face, but the instant she saw Mikasa it slipped away, morphing into surprise. Mikasa's heart beat hard in her chest and she could feel the heat flooding into her cheeks. Annie raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"I, uh-"

"I forgot my coat," Interrupted Annie.

She brushed past Mikasa and pulled said coat from under her desk. She turned back to Mikasa expectantly.

"I, um, forgot my..." Mikasa fumbled around for an object behind her, anything would do.

"Coffee... cup?"

Annie smirked and laughed faintly, turning back towards the exit.

"It's okay, I won't ask."

Mikasa nodded, desperately willing the blush from her cheeks. Annie didn't appear to suspect what Mikasa had really be up to, she didn't seem to care. Despite herself, Mikasa was a little bit put out.

They walked back out of the building, side by side. Mikasa sometimes shot Annie sideways glances. Annie didn't return them. Her eyes stayed locked on the ground, her bangs swinging to cover her face. When they emerged outside into the biting night air Annie turned to her and they made eye contact at last.

"Do you need me to walk you home?" Asked Annie. "It's getting late."

"You really think I need protection?" Replied Mikasa scornfully.

"I was more concerned about your would-be attackers."

Mikasa rolled her eyes and began marching away, tugging agitatedly at her scarf.

"C'mon!" Annie called after her. "Let me have an excuse!"

That stopped Mikasa mid-step. She turned back, keeping her face carefully blank.

"An excuse?"

Annie didn't reply, staring at her. Mikasa noted she hadn't bothered to put on her coat, despite the cold. Annie didn't appear to notice it however. Mikasa shrugged and continued walking home. Annie caught up to her before she'd barely taken two steps.

They walked in silence for a while, their breath making the ghosts of shapes in the fog. The lights from the street lamps shone a dull orange. Every time a car passed the headlights would flash over them.

Mikasa was too busy admiring the effect this had on Annie to notice Annie's hand edging closer to hers. When Annie did slip her fingers between Mikasa's, Mikasa stopped entirely. Annie was now slightly ahead of Mikasa. Their arms stretched out between them, still joined by the hands, clear in the dull light.

Annie was holding her hand. Mikasa looked at it, as if unable to believe what had just happened. Her eyes trailed back up to Annie's which were challenging. Mikasa let out a long breath, willing herself back together. At last she shrugged.

"You owe me a spar tomorrow."

Annie smiled, triumphant. They continued back home.

"So," said Annie. "Opinion on the case?"

Mikasa considered her answer for a while.

"As long as we get it cleared and Eren doesn't take it upon himself to do that, I don't really care what's true and what's a lie."

"You say that, but you don't mean it," shot back Annie.

Mikasa looked up at the sky which was void of stars.

"The world is a cruel place."

"The world is a cruel place," Echoed Annie. She made an impatient noise in the back of her throat. "It's like you to say that."

Mikasa stayed silent but inside her was a beast and it was screaming. She wanted Annie to understand, but that would make Annie hate her, but maybe that was what Mikasa wanted.

"And why do you care so much about Eren?"

The beast clawed painfully at her heart and Mikasa stopped dead. Her hand slid out of Annie's. For a panicky moment she couldn't breathe. She forced air in and out of her lungs. At last she spoke.

"He- he's the only family I have left."

She could go no further. Could not describe the events that had happened that night fifteen years ago. Could not explain the emptiness she had felt when her parents had been struck down, first one, then the other. Could not even begin to make Annie understand how she had felt when Eren had held her tight to her hand while her mother was taken off life support.

"He's all I have left."

"Ah yes. And Armin and I have just dissipated into thin air."

"That's not what I meant-"

"Sure it's not."

Annie began to walk again, leaving Mikasa no choice but to run after her. This was unnerving. Mikasa was always the leader, the one in control. Always. Annie always lagged behind or didn't even bother showing up, Armin was too self conscious to ever speak up and Eren... was Eren.

They stopped for the third time, except this time they were actually at their destination. Annie turned to Mikasa, hands stuffed deep into her pockets.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah."

Mikasa hesitated, then leaned forward planting a quick kiss on Annie's cheek.

"Thanks," She whispered. "for protecting the muggers from me or whatever you were doing."

She turned quickly away. If she’d done so a second later she would’ve seen the blush that rose on Annie's face and the hand she pressed onto the spot where Mikasa had kissed her, as if trying to hold the kiss there for ever. But she didn't.

  


Mikasa opened the apartment door, which unsurprisingly, had been left unlocked. Tutting slightly, she walked inside and peeled off her coat. Exhausted, she went to sit on the couch. She had been beaten to it. Mikasa smiled slightly at the sight of Eren and Armin curled up on the sofa together, Armin's head resting on Eren's chest, Eren's fingers entwined in Armin's hair. Both were sound asleep, their slow breathing perfectly synchronized. Mikasa took the opportunity to snap a quick photo on her phone (she could use it against Eren later) before finding a blanket and draping it tenderly over the two men. They barely stirred.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 may or may not have been a bit lovey-dovey. Oh well.  
>   
> Thanks for reading. :)  
> InsaneFictionGeek out  
> Leave kudos and comments! Thanks :)  
> RainbowQueen out


	5. Messed Up Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh, sorry guys for the late update :/ I've been on holiday and there was no wifi! (shock horror) plus side- I wrote a lot so next few updates will be on time :)  
> RainbowQueen out

"I'm afraid there's no food tonight," Said Marco regretfully.

"Great," muttered Jean.

He and Marco were alone in the warehouse, the two girls having left hours before to do who knew what. They were sitting opposite each other on empty crates, a single candle flickering weakly between them.

"Man, my friends are going to be so worried," Said Jean.

Marco buried his face in his hands, shaking his head slightly. "I'm so sorry I got you into this mess. Seriously, I should've thought before coming into your home."

Jean didn't answer. He liked to think of himself as honest, and disagreeing with Marco at that moment would certainly not be that. He decided to divert the conversation with another question.

"What did Ymir and Krista do to end up here too?"

Marco shrugged.

"Never asked. Well, they got associated with me, but they could have easily cleared themselves. There was no hard evidence against them."

For a couple of minutes neither of them spoke. Jean could feel the tension rising up between them like electric currents, getting stronger by the second. Was Marco innocent, or a murderer?

He felt tired and confused. Surely this was not the same boy he'd played video games with. The freckled bastard from yesterday seemed nothing like the freckled murderer now. This boy was quiet, sad. Maybe it was because Jean knew who he was now.

"This is so fucked up," Jean muttered.

Marco nodded sadly.

"I mean," Jean continued, "earlier today I went to school, I hung out with my friends, I got yelled at in English. Last week I went to school, I hung out with my friends, I got yelled at in English. Last year I went to school, I hung out with my friends, I had a really bad haircut I would rather not speak of, and I got yelled at in English. Now I'm hiding out in an abandoned warehouse with a fugitive and two psychopaths and the police shooting at me. This has not been a good day."

"Your English teacher must really hate you," said Marco.

"Yeah. He's got it in for me, I swear."

Marco laughed carelessly, as if all the shit going on wasn't actually happening. The laugh was infectious and soon Jean found himself laughing too. How had that happened? Jean found himself barely caring that he was sharing a joke with a possible murderer. All that was important at that moment was that they were both laughing and were definitely not dead.

"What's so funny?"

Ymir had entered the warehouse, an arm wrapped protectively around Krista. Jean stopped laughing abruptly but Marco only laughed harder. Jean glared at him.

"Is he okay?" Asked Krista.

"To be honest, I don't know," grumbled Jean, giving Marco another glare.

Marco slowly stopped laughing, much to everyone's relief. He smiled up at Ymir and Krista.

"Hello!"

Through her bored expression, Ymir somehow looked ready to kill. Jean marvelled at how Marco was still smiling. The freckled bastard must really be an idiot.

"Just a second," Marco said.

He stood up and walked away into the darkness of the warehouse. Jean stared despairingly after him. Between the murder suspect and the two girls, Jean would choose the murder suspect. He sought desperately for something to say in the oppressive silence.

"So, where have you guys been?"

"Krista," said Ymir, smiling down at the blonde, "has developed a talent for getting money out of people."

Krista reached into her pockets and pulled out coins by the handful, leaving them piled on the floor.

"It seems," she said, "that people have a weakness for refusing me money. It also seems that people don't have very safe purses."

"That's my Krista," said Ymir, planting a teasing kiss on Krista's head.

Jean reached down and picked up a coin. He twirled it between his fingers absently. At that moment Marco came back, carrying two more crates that he set down for the girls to sit on. He frowned down at the money.

"You didn't steal that did you?" He asked.

"Only half!"

Marco looked concerned, which Jean felt was strange, seeing as he was a criminal already. Ymir and Krista sat down, shoulder to shoulder, or head to shoulder taking Krista's height into consideration.

"Quite your whining, Marco. Because of Krista's efforts we're going to have breakfast in the morning."

Marco nodded and seemed to relax slightly. Breakfast was a welcome prospect.

Jean flipped his coin back into the pile and leaned back. He felt like he was gatecrashing some kind of morbid party. Ymir's stunt with the knife had not quite been forgotten yet. Once again, his mind turned back to who Ymir and Krista actually were and what they were doing there. His curiosity was strong enough to kill several cats by the time he felt brave enough to ask.

"So, uh- how did you two end up here? Marco told me you could have walked free."

He'd initially addressed his question to Ymir but it was Krista who answered.

"It's quite a long story actually. If you want to know I guess it could pass the time."

Beside Jean, Marco's mouth fell open.

"Why are you telling him?" He asked, almost whining, which Jean found oddly attractive. He dismissed the thought from his mind as quickly as it had come.

"Because you never asked, genius," smirked Ymir.

Marco couldn't seem to find an argument for that. Jean raised his eyebrows at him and the freckled bastard blushed slightly. It was a very satisfying moment of Jean's life.

"So, if you lovebirds are ever going to pay attention..." huffed Krista impatiently.

Now Jean was blushing too. Krista gave him a smug look.

"Now that you're listening," She muttered. "Okay. I think it was nearly a year ago now when this all began. I'd just left school and decided to be a social worker. To kick of my career I decided to go do some volunteer work in Afghanistan, you know, working with women and stuff. Not the best decision I've ever made."

"Hey," snapped Ymir, punching her arm playfully.

"I'm just joking! Anyway, there I met Ymir, who at that time was being head hunted by the government. Literally. They'd caught her staging protests for LGBT rights and the punishment over there for being outwardly gay is the death penalty. Naturally, I decided to help her out..."

 

_Ymir sat on the narrow bed, a knife balanced on her hands. She looked at her watch. One hour to go. One more hour and Krista would be gone forever, out of her life. Ymir was sure Krista didn't care enough about her to actually come back to this hell hole. She thought back to when they'd first met, the stones bruising her skin, Krista's deep blue eyes, the kiss shared in the rain before Ymir had to run. She didn't remember nostalgically, Ymir was not nostalgic. Maybe a little regretfully. Yes, she was regretful that Krista couldn't stay with her forever, horrible human being though that made her._

_Besides, without Krista's help, Ymir would probably have been dead long ago._

_There was a quick knock on the door and Ymir tensed up. Her hand gripped tightly around the knife handle._

_"Ymir, open up! It's me."_

_Ymir swore loudly, nearly cutting herself on the knife. That was Krista's voice. She stood and opened the door. Krista was staring up at her, hair wet from the rain. Ymir glared back._

_"What the fuck are you doing? Your plane leaves in an hour!"_

_"I know," Krista grabbed at her sleeve, "but I thought of a way to get you out of here."_

_She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a plane ticket and a passport and shoved them at Ymir. What she had done required little explanation._

_"Bribery?" Asked Ymir._

_Krista nodded._

_"Excessive cuteness?"_

_Krista gave Ymir a winning smile._

_"That's my manipulative little Goddess."_

_Ymir ruffled Krista's her affectionately and Krista rolled her eyes._

_"Once we're there we'll have to sort out getting you a refugee status but we'll smash that wall when we get to it," Krista told her._

_She seemed so optimistic, it was almost unnerving. Ymir had to be sure she knew what she was getting herself into._

_"Krista, you know this is dangerous right? It would be safer for you just to leave me here. We could easily get caught."_

_The optimism dimmed slightly. For a while, Krista didn't answer. She reached up tentatively and touched her hand to a bruise on Ymir's cheek, left there by the stoning. Ymir could feel fireworks going off where Krista touched her but was careful to keep her face blank. Her heart beat was erupting inside her chest like a volcano, barely controllable. All she wanted was to just wrap her arms around Krista and stay like that forever. Krista trailed her fingers down to another bruise and her expression became stony._

_"I'm not leaving you behind."_

_Those five words. Those five words were everything. Ymir wanted to explain to Krista how much they meant to her, but she couldn't find the words. How could she ever explain her feelings in just plain words? But something had to be said._

_"I love you."_

_It was the best she could do, yet she was sure 'love' wasn't a strong enough word. Krista looked up into Ymir's eyes and smiled. She understood._

_"I love you too, Ymir. Now get packed. We're leaving."_

 

Jean glanced at Marco who was sitting in rapt attention, leaning forwards with his hands on his knees.

"So..." Said Jean, "you got plane tickets out of there, came here and went to somehow get Ymir a refugee status without being arrested. Then what?"

"Well," sighed Krista. "Chances of getting it weren't looking good for a while, but they were chances none the less. That's where Marco comes in."

Everyone looked at Marco. He was beginning to look horrified. His hands clenched into fists on his jeans, knuckles going white. His face went pale.

"No," He whispered. "No way."

"I was friends with Marco before I went away," explained Krista. "The night we got back was the night before those kids were murdered. Marco was going to their house to babysit them. He hasn't told us the details of what happened yet so all I know is that Ymir and I got a panicked phone call in the middle of the night begging for us to come quick."

"I didn't- I didn't realise," moaned Marco.

"We came," continued Krista, "and then the police did too. Luckily we all managed to escape, but the police know who we all are now. Or at least, what we look like."

And Jean finally understood. The last pieces of Ymir and Krista's puzzle clicked neatly into place to form a terrible picture.

"Ymir can't get a refugee status because she's being hunted by the police," Jean said slowly, "and she can't clear herself from the police because technically, she doesn't exist. At least, not here."

Krista and Ymir nodded. At this, Marco stood up, face ghostly.

"Why did you let me call you?" He yelled. "Why did you help me?"

"Marco, it's okay-"

But Ymir had turned to Krista and there was a glint in her eye Jean didn't like.

"Yeah Krista, why did we help him?"

"Ymir!"

"I screwed up."

"Yeah, you did."

"Ymir, stop-"

"If it weren't for you, we'd all be safe at home."

Marco stumbled back, then turned and ran blindly from the warehouse. There was a crash as the crate Marco had been sitting on was overturned. Jean and Krista stood up quickly, looking panicked. It wasn't safe for Marco to go outside, especially in the state he was in.

"Weak," muttered Ymir.

Krista turned to her angrily, furious tears in the corners of her eyes.

"Why did you do that Ymir?"

"What? Everything I said was true."

"Uh," Jean interrupted, "shouldn't I go after him? He might get in trouble."

Krista nodded, wiping an arm across her eyes and fixing Ymir with a death glare.

"You go Jean. I've got some things to say to Ymir."

 

Jean left the warehouse at a run. He looked round, trying to spot the freckled bastard in the dim glow of the streetlights. It didn't take long to spot him, silhouetted at the end of the street, leaning against a wall as if all the strength had been sapped from him. Jean took a few steps forward, then stopped.

Something was wrong.

Marco wasn't alone. As Jean watched, figures detached themselves from the dark shadows and surrounded Marco. Marco pushed himself off the wall warily. The strangers and Marco seemed to be in a sort of argument.

Jean wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and forced himself to take another step forward. And another. The closer he got, the harder it became to move.

The argument was getting more intense, Jean could just hear the lowered voices echoing down the street. Marco was cowering back, hands raised submissively. Then Jean saw something, something that made his heart stop. The glint of a knife.

It was over too quick for Jean to react, to even shout. The knife plunged into Marco's stomach.

Marco gave a strangled yell, then dropped to his knees, bending over. The knife was removed with savage aggression and Marco slumped onto the pavement in a pool of his own blood. The attackers vanished back into the shadows, leaving Marco to die.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love yumukuri :) Leave a kudos and/or comment!  
> RainbowQueen out


	6. Sky Full Of Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello y'all! Putting this up a day early because I feel guilty for missing the last deadline :/ Bit of blood in this chapter, bit of fluff, way too much cheese to be decent (Sorry 'bout that). I promise the story will get more fast paced as we go along. Adios!  
> RainbowQueen out

"Jean, what-"

"Move, quickly! Help me find somewhere to put him!"

"Oh my god. What happened?"

"He was stabbed. Come on, quick!"

"So much blood! Uh, over here. Ymir, help carry him!"

Jean stumbled forward towards where Krista was pointing, supporting an unconscious, bloody Marco. One of his arms was wrapped around Marco's waist, the other pulling Marco's arm around his neck. Ymir took Marco's other one and helped Jean lower him gently onto a blanket which Krista was hastily spreading out.

Blood was everywhere. It stained Jean's hands and Krista's blanket and Marco's shirt. Bile rose in the back of Jean's throat and he swallowed it down. Marco had passed out from blood loss. His face was pale and milky, unlike its usual tan. 

Krista elbowed Jean and Ymir out of the way and knelt down beside Marco. A swiss army knife made itself present in her hand and she brought it down towards Marco's chest. Jean''s breath hitched in his throat but she was only cutting Marco's shirt off him. Krista turned to Jean and there was a steely look in her eyes.

"It's okay, I took a first aid course."

Jean forced himself to breathe, then to speak.

"Is he going to die?" His voice was higher than he'd wanted it to be. 

"Not if I can help it. Ymir, please go get some water."

Krista tore Marco's shirt into strips and wrapped some of the fabric around her hands. Another strip was used to clear away some of the blood surrounding the wound. Jean forced himself not to look directly at it, focussing instead on Marco's face as if trying to memorize the exact formation of the freckles scattered across it. Even as he looked, Marco's eyelids fluttered open.

They locked eyes for a moment, then Krista pressed a wad of shirt into Marco's stomach and he hissed, eyes screwing shut in pain.

"Marco, don't move a muscle," warned Krista. 

Marco merely nodded slightly, keeping his eyes tightly shut. Jean dropped to his knees beside Krista and took Marco's hand, squeezing it in his own. Words tumbled from his mouth with every breath, clumsy and desperate.

"Please don't die Marco. Don't die. Please. Hell, I've only known you for two days, but that was not nearly enough. Don't die. Shit, just don't okay?"

"I doubt that's helping," cut in Ymir. She bent down, holding out a water bottle which Krista took hastily.

"Thanks Ymir. Jean, I need you to be human pillow. This next bit's gonna hurt."

Through the mess of thoughts and emotions going through Jean's head he was unable to make sense of what Krista was asking him to do. He stared at her uncertainly. Krista sighed.

"Put his head in your lap and talk to him."

Jean wanted to argue for the sake of his dignity and pride. Yeah, that's how much of a dickhead he was. Jean knew that. But then Marco let out a gasp of pain and the sound in Jean's ears was so heart breaking that he obeyed without comment. He shuffled over awkwardly and gently shifted Marco's head onto his lap, cradling it in his hands. Marco barely even noticed.

"Marco, this is going to sting, okay? Brace yourself."

Then Krista upturned the bottle and poured water over the wound. 

Marco yelled, his hands clenching into fists and Jean had to stop himself from yelling too.

"Shut up you freckled bastard!" He shouted. "It's okay, you're fine. Yeah, this is probably one of the worst moments of your life but, you know, it's good. You'll pull through." Jean looked up from his rambling to desperately call out to Krista over Marco's cries. "Can't we call an ambulance or something?"

"Are you an idiot?" Ymir yelled into his ear, "Marco's suspected of murder! We're suspected of aiding him! Hospitals aren't going to help him now."

Marco's yell's subsided into heavy, rattling pants. The bleeding was beginning to slow, but it still looked bad. Too bad.

"It's going to be fine!" Sobbed Krista, trying to convince herself more than anyone else. Tears were brimming in the corners of her eyes and she held them back desperately. "It's all going to be fine, I'm sure of it!" Her shoulders heaved with another suppressed sob.

In an instant, Ymir was down at her side rubbing small circles into her back with the palm of her hand.

"You're doing great, shorty."

"Th-thanks Ymir."

A gust of wind blasted the warehouse doors open, followed by a loud crash outside. Jean's jaw clenched. Krista froze. For a long, drawn out moment there was silence. Another gust of wind blew inside and set the hairs on the back of Jean's neck on end.

"How did you say Marco was stabbed again Jean?" Krista asked. Her voice was higher than normal and quivering like a dead leaf.

"He was mugged..."

"And where did those muggers go after they'd stabbed him?"

"I don't know. They just kind of vanished."

It was like some sick, cliché horror movie. Everyone's heads turned. Three of the muggers were standing in the doorway, hoods pulled down over their faces. Jean wanted nothing more than to throw up, but he hadn't eaten in hours so even if he did, all he'd be able to do was retch.

A hand gripped weakly at his sleeve. Marco's. Jean looked down at the freckled bastard and took it in his own. 

The muggers walked inside, confidently. To Jean's slight surprise, Ymir stood up to face them, fixing them with a glare so fierce it could back down a lion. The muggers stopped a few paces from her. It was too dark to make out their faces.

"This is our territory," snarled the man on the left.

"The fuck? Are you five or something?" Ymir barked out a menacing laugh. "Your territory? Your fucking territory? You're going to kill my girlfriend and these bastards because we're on 'your territory?'"

Ymir doubled over with laughter. It rang loudly around the room but the atmosphere was far different from the one Marco's had created earlier that day. How Ymir was able to face down the muggers and laugh, Jean had no idea.

"Fucking queers," Said another Mugger.

Ymir stopped laughing instantly.

"Krista, the knife."

 

***

 

Jean turned over restlessly, unable to find a comfortable position on the floor in one of the rare parts that wasn't covered in blood. Krista and Ymir's light snores kept him wide awake from where they were lying on the other side of the room, curled up against each other with a kind of comfortable intimacy. Jean loathed it. The snores, and the out of context closeness. It was irritating.

After Ymir had chased the muggers out (with minor to moderate casualties to their side) Krista had ordered them to sleep. According to his phone it had been three in the morning, but he hadn't checked it for a while because the battery had been low. Dangerously so. If it turned out Krista, Ymir and Marco were murderers/psychopaths, he wanted enough battery to call the police... or maybe his friends.

He felt a stab of guilt in his gut. His friends didn't know he was here. They didn't know he was on the run. 

He wondered what they would do when they turned up to school on Monday and he wasn't there, if the police hadn't broadcasted his face all over the news by then. 

Would they be loyal and stay convinced of his innocence? He had a bad feeling that Sasha and Connie wouldn't, always the followers. He supposed it didn't really matter. The thought that they might turn on him hurt though.

There was a whimper from beside him and a rustle of movement. Jean looked over at Marco who was barely visible in the dark. At first he thought he must've imagined the noise, but then Marco whimpered again and mumbled something incoherently. Jean shifted closer slightly. Marco began twitching, his breath becoming irregular. Random words fell from his mouth. Jean was now so close he could see Marco's eyes dancing behind their lids. 

"Marco?"

"No... no..."

Jean struggled with what to do. Marco was obviously having a nightmare and if he writhed around much more he would re-open his wound. But Krista had said that he was not to wake Marco for anything. 

"Uh- Marco?"

Marco started to toss and turn aggressively, sweat forming on his forehead.

"Marco, man-"

Jean put a hand on Marco's shoulder and forced him to lie still. The freckled bastard calmed slightly. A hand reached out and grabbed the hem of Jean's shirt, fingers twisting in the cotton fabric.

Marco was still breathing harshly, as if running. A thought lodged itself in Jean's mind. He must be protected. Another thought came in to join it. You can't sit here like this all night you twat. 

Jean sighed. Both thoughts were probably right, though the first one was a bit weird. He lay down beside the freckled bastard, one hand still on his shoulder. He tried to ignore the blush creeping up his cheeks.

The effect was instantaneous. Marco immediately stopped twitching and relaxed. The only thing to show he'd been troubled at all was a small dribble of blood leaking out from his bandage, nothing too serious to worry about.

Jean looked at Marco curiously. Had he done that? Marco was breathing deeply again, sound asleep. Jean shifted slightly into a more comfortable position, his back against Marco's chest, careful not to lean into Marco's stomach. It felt surprisingly safe and... homely. Marco's steady breath against his neck, his heart beating a slow rhythm against his spine. 

Jean was asleep within minutes.

 

The next few nights passed in almost exactly the same way until Jean wasn't even bothering to try initially sleep alone. Every night he would calm Marco from his nightmares with his presence. 

Jean didn't judge Marco for having nightmares, like he probably normally would. Marco had been through a lot, anyone would be traumatised by being stabbed, accused of murder and forced to go on the run. Jean just wanted to help him get through the night. Besides, the freckled bastard was adorable.

Marco spent most days asleep or just lying on the ground reading a book while Jean would lean over his shoulder, holding down the pages Marco was trying to turn until he had finished every last sentence. Krista and Ymir went out everyday to... attain money and food. 

It wasn't until the fourth day that Marco woke up before Jean and was shocked, not to mention embarrassed to see Jean sleeping next to him. Ymir had found the look on his red, freckled face very amusing. None of this stopped Jean from helping Marco through the nights and the nightmares which were still going strong.

A week passed slowly. Jean didn't notice his phone run out of battery until it was too late, but he found he didn't really care. Marco was recovering quickly, much to Krista's delight. Jean could swear she bragged about her first aid skills every other minute, to the point where he overheard her telling Ymir that she was thinking of becoming a doctor if she ever got out of the situation they were all trapped in.

By the second week, Marco was walking again. This came as a huge relief to everyone. If the police were to come while Marco was unable to escape... Jean didn't want to think about it. Despite his anger, despite his fear, Jean had grown attached to the freckled bastard. Just like he couldn't hate him the first night they'd met, he couldn't hate him now.

Marco was... something else. Jean cursed at himself silently. For fuck's sake, screw 'something else', Marco was fucking perfect. Everything about him; the way he smiled, the way he winced when he moved, the way his laugh was so infectious it could even force a chuckle out of Ymir. There was no pretending. Jean like Marco. He just hoped to God that he wasn't a murderer after all.

 

On Jean's sixteenth night (how had he been gone that long? It felt like a day) Marco woke Jean from his precious sleep with a gentle shake. Jean opened his eyes drowsily and groaned. Marco's freckled face drifted into focus.

"What the fuck Marco?" He groaned.

"Shh!" Marco whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. He jerked his head to where Ymir and Krista were sleeping. "I've got something to show you."

Bloody hell, Jean thought, but he was too tired to voice it. Marco scrambled to his feet and held out a hand to help Jean up. Always the gentleman.

They walked to the door, shoulder to shoulder. When they were outside Marco stopped. Jean looked around expectantly but nothing happened. They were just standing in the usual backstreet. The cold sent goosebumps rocketing up Jean's arms and he rubbed a little warmth back into them.

"So?" He asked.

Marco pointed towards the sky.

"Look up."

Jean looked. Hundreds of stars blinked back at him, tiny fireflies in a big ocean of darkness. In their centre, queen of the night, was the full moon. The longer Jean looked, the more stars appeared and the brighter the moon became. It's infiniteness swallowed Jean up and left him, lost in the darkness.

Beside him Marco whispered, "You know, sometimes I think people forget to look at the sky. Just properly look. It makes everything seem so small and insignificant. Sometimes I wonder what the world would be like if people would only look."

Goddamn it, he's perfect, Jean thought to himself. Kind, perfect, adorable, and a complete and utter bastard. Marco smiled at Jean and Jean found himself smiling back.

"Is this the point where you tell me all these fascinating, yet useless facts about star constellations?" Jean asked sarcastically.

"You see those two bright stars over there?" Asked Marco, pointing.

"Yeah?"

"They're actually planets that are temporarily aligned. Jupiter and Venus."

Jean followed Marco's arm to the two planets and nodded. They were definitely brighter than all the other stars that night. He waited patiently for more information. None came.

"Is that it?" He asked out loud.

Marco blushed slightly, still looking up at the stars.

"I don't really know much about stars," he muttered.

"It's a flaming ball of gas," Jean said in a quite, sing song voice. "Learn some science you dumbass..."

"Um, what?" Laughed Marco.

"Nothing, just something Sasha and Connie used to sing," Jean mumbled, embarrassed.

"Your friends right?" Marco asked.

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

They both stared up at the sky, as if hoping it would give them some kind of understanding or forgiveness, maybe even some answers. To Jean's disappointment, the stars did not miraculously morph into the words 'it was the butler that did it', or even a helpful arrow. He felt personally let down somehow.

"I didn't do it you know," Marco said softly. "Murder those kids. I was supposed to be babysitting them that night but traffic was bad so I was late. When I got there they already were dead. Next thing I knew the police were trying to arrest me and all the evidence was pointing my way. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

"Marco-" Jean started.

"Please Jean." Marco said. His face was sincere, not a teasing smile in sight. "Please. Believe me. I didn't do it."

"I know."

At first the words shocked Jean, then he realised they were true. He was a naturally honest person after all.

Marco nearly sobbed with relief. He smiled weakly and before Jean could duck away, was hugging him fiercely. There was an awkward moment in which Jean thanked god Marco couldn't see how red his face had become, and then, hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around Marco too. Marco's fingers dug into Jean's back slightly as a kind of thank you. 

This is a bro-hug, Jean told himself. A very manly hug... Oh who am I kidding.

"The thought occurs," said Jean teasingly, "That your freckles are in the exact same formation as the stars."

"Oh, shut up," laughed Marco, and he pulled away, grinning his infectious grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so ended on a happy note there- decided it wouldn't be cool to kill off a main character before I'm even HALF WAY THROUGH. I think Krista would make a great doctor, I don't know why, she just would.   
> So anyway, want to make a quick apology. I was inteding to go further into character building and developement, and the relationships they have with the other characters and how it affects them and all that shit, but this is only my first fic afterall and I'm having trouble fitting it in. So if you ever feel like the story's missing something, leave a comment- I'll try fix it :)  
> Leave a comment and/or kudos! Thanks guys.  
> RainbowQueen out


	7. Remember When

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Ok, so I got just a bit carried away in this chapter and now it's really cheesy- but hey, cheese is great. I'm afraid not much happens, but it's important these characters get a chapter here- you'll see why later. I'll just leave it at that.  
> RainbowQueen out

Sasha was sitting next to Connie on his couch, a bowl of popcorn planted neatly between them. The tv was on, but for once, neither of them were paying attention to it. A clock on the mantelpiece flashed three a.m. 

It had been the first time they'd slept over since Jean had... left. That was the term they used now, maybe because the truth hurt too much. Usually, Reiner, Bert and Jean would join them for their all-nighter movie marathons. Usually, they would be drinking and laughing until the neighbours yelled at them to shut up. Usually, they would all crash on Connie's large couch in a pile and fall drunkenly asleep that way. Usually, Jean wasn't on the run.

Usually.

Sasha sighed sadly and put her hand back into the popcorn bowl. Her and Connie's attempt at normalcy had flopped sadly. Reiner and Bert both had football practice and hadn't been able to come. It was just like primary school, Sasha reflected. Jean had no friends back then and Bert was having trouble with his abusive brother. 

Bert, unknown to most, was an orphan. He had been brought up by his brother who was a good fifteen years older than him- and boy, had that turned out well. Ever since Reiner had found out about Bert's treatment he'd barely left his side. Then Bert's brother had died and now the two practically lived together, so of course, when Bert wasn't there, neither was Reiner. And now, neither was Jean.

"Do you think-" Started Sasha. 

Connie glanced at her and stopped spitting popcorn seeds at the TV.

"Do you think that when we leave school and go to university, we'll just fall apart?"

"What do you mean?" Connie asked sharply.

"Well, Bert and Reiner have been drifting and up until he left, Jean's put distance between us too. It's only a matter of time before we stop talking."

"Bullshit," said Connie.

"I'm serious! What if we can never get back what we all had?"

The thought had been bugging her ever since they'd been questioned by Dl. Leonhardt and Ackerman weeks earlier, like an annoying spec of dust in the corner of her eye that she just couldn't seem to get rid of. 

Until then, Jean's disappearance hadn't seemed real- like a nightmare she was about to wake from. Sure, she'd seen Jean's face in the news and the baffled broadcasters asking the police whether he was 'accomplice or victim' of the infamous Marco Bodt- but until they had actually talked to the police, there had been a voice in the back of her mind screaming NO NO NO! She wasn't sure if it was still there.

Those few days back when the initial confusion had begun had been terrifying. At first, when Jean hadn't answered their repeated calls, they had assumed he was still sulking about... whatever he was sulking about. Jean was the sulking type after all. 

Then his face made it to the news. A few panicked phone calls later Reiner, Bert, Connie and herself were all piled into the same room she was in now, trying to make sense of what was going on. No luck. 

The following monday the police had come to the school. Leonhardt and Ackerman. Whispers and rumours were being thrown around everywhere by then. Connie, being Connie, heard them all. 

Some were mild and believable- Jean was in fact innocent and there had just been an identity mix up- but some told weird tales of kidnap and rooftop chases, even bordering dangerously on Jean being the actual murderer.

Connie, Sasha, Bert and Renier were called out of class respectively and interviewed by the DIs. The interviews were short and to the point, neither woman seemed very talkative. Sasha tried to give them every last detail in the unwavering belief that Jean was innocent, because maybe, something she said, no matter how ordinary or useless it seemed, would get Jean cleared. Not that he was accused of anything- the officers had stressed that point. There was always the possibility of Jean being a hostage.

After the interviews the school turned their attention onto the group of four. Before they knew it, they were dragged into the rumours too. When questioned, they would just say that Jean was a hostage. The word always sent shivers down Sasha's spine.

 

"Sasha, I don't think we'll ever get it all back," Connie said.

Sasha couldn't believe her ears. She had been relying on Connie to reassure her, to tell her it was all in her head. Her thought was becoming substantial.

"But we have to!"

Connie looked away with an irritable jerk of the head. His hands wrung together nervously.

"Face it, Sasha. Jean's a criminal." 

Sasha felt herself go cold, though the room itself was warm and stuffy. She frowned at Connie who was staring hopelessly at the muted tv.

"Whaddaya mean?" She asked, an uncertain edge to her voice.

"I mean, we're kidding ourselves if we think he's not. Remember how he was acting the day before he left? He knew something was up."

"Why are you saying this, Connie?" 

"Because it's true! Jean's hiding out with a murderer and everything he ever had with us was a lie! It was all false! Just think about it."

Sasha bit back the angry retort already on her tongue and thought. She thought about everything Connie had shouted about. She thought about Jean.

"No."

"No?" Asked Connie, surprised. "What the hell Sasha? What do you mean no?"

"No! It's you who needs to think Connie! Y'all letting these rumours and suspicions get into ya head. You ain't stupid, Connie. Ya know who Jean is. He may be a coward but he ain't a murderer!"

"And how do you know that Sasha? How do you know?" Connie demanded, voice getting higher and higher.

"I JUST DO!"

Connie stared at her for a long time, big eyes wide. Sasha backed down a bit, suddenly feeling awkward and shy. She'd gone too far. She and Connie never fought. For a while Sasha was certain Connie was going to order her out of his house. Then he sighed.

"You're right. I was being an idiot."

Sasha sighed with relief and crammed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. She munched down and gulped, trying not to notice Connie's eyes still focused on her with an unusual intensity. 

Her pulse quickened slightly and she felt suddenly elated, yet nervous. Sweat formed on the palms of her hands. She had nearly lost her best friend in the space of one argument.

"Thanks Connie," She said, ignoring her sudden mood change. "Ya know, maybe Jean was bein' threatened. Maybe he got a text from that Marco fella sayin' he was coming but he was too scared to tell us. He might've just been protecting us."

Connie nodded, looking slightly happier with this logical explanation. They both took another handful of popcorn.

"Hey, Sasha." 

Connie finally turned the tv off and turned to face her on the couch. There was a crease between his eyes which was present whenever he detected Sasha freaking out- which wasn't often, but was fairly obvious. He reached out a fist to punch her gently on the shoulder.

"Even if Jean goes to prison, even if Reiner and Bert go to some far off university and never speak to us again, we'll still be friends. Best friends."

Sasha hummed in agreement, but it was half-hearted. At that moment, Connie's words seemed like empty promises.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine."

"Sasha, I can tell when you're not okay because your accent changes, which is sorta creepy-"

"Hey!"

"-And weird, but you've been doing it the last five minutes so I know you're lying to me!"

Sasha's mouth snapped shut mid-protest. She glared at Connie angrily and threw a handful of popcorn at him. Connie retaliated by picking up the bowl of popcorn and lunging at her. Sasha realised just on time what Connie was planning. She grabbed the rim of the bowl and tried to tear it from his hands. There was a brief wrestling match which somehow ended with the bowl flipping into the air and raining popcorn on both of their heads. The bowl landed somewhere behind the couch.

They both flopped down, lying side by side in the mess of popcorn, panting slightly. Somehow, by unknown, unbidden forces, Connie's hand landed on top of Sasha's. Their fingers laced together and gripped tightly. They both grinned up at the ceiling light, feeling like the only people left in the world. 

If only.

"Do you believe me yet?"

Sasha thought of Connie's hand in hers and the worried crease between his forehead and his insane popcorn fights and his random phone calls at two in the morning and, and, and-

"Maybe."

Connie's hand squeezed hers, accepting the challenge.

"Okay then. Remember when we first met?" He asked. 

It was a sort of silly game they'd invented years ago to pass the time: 'Remember When'. It didn't have specific rules or objectives, it was just memories. Why Connie was playing it now Sasha had no idea, but there was no reason not to play along. Sasha racked her brains for details.

"Primary?"

"Second year."

"September."

"Playground."

Sasha smiled happily and said, "I remember."

"I was being picked on by those older kids for being bald and I was pretty scared, y'know, being six and all."

"Six and a half," corrected Sasha, reinstating the battle.

"Leukemia."

"Meds."

"And you." Connie laughed. "You saw them and marched up with your little toy bow and arrow and you whacked them so hard-"

"Bruises," giggled Sasha.

"Sick bay." 

"Time out!"

They both roared with laughter until tears came to their eyes.

"Don't even remind me!" Pleaded Sasha.

"Mrs Hepburn! The naughty corner! No cookies for a week!" Yelled Connie.

Sasha hit him over the head with a cushion, still laughing. As if that memory would ever fade.

"Anyway," continued Connie. "My point is, on that day, I thought I'd met an angel, Wonder Woman, Katniss Everdeen- whatever! And I wanted to be with her forever, even if that meant secretly sharing my cookies. And I still want that."

"Forever," whispered Sasha.

"Always."

"Love."

The word was out before Sasha could stop it, falling from her lips. But before she could blush or pull away, Connie spoke.

"Damn right, fucking love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry :) That was surprisingly fun to write and Springles is just so cute. Next chapter is actually going to have some action in it so looking forward to next week! Until then-  
> RainbowQueen out


	8. Fights and Hug Therapy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! Wow that week went by slowly, I've been so busy... still got time for writing though, so here's chapter 8! (yaaaay). Hope you guys like it :)  
> RainbowQueen out

The city streets were more crowded than usual, probably because it was a Saturday. The sky was cloudy, but not yet dark enough for rain. Perfect city weather. There were too many cars on the road for easy traffic, too many people on the footpaths for apologies when shoulders bumped and nearly too many people for following a familiar face. But not quite.

A short blonde stopped in the middle of the heavy bustle and turned around. Mikasa slipped quickly into a shop doorway. She was sure Annie wouldn't be able to see her through the mess of bodies, but there was always the chance. Mikasa could tell by the annoyed faces and harsh muttering that Annie hadn't turned around and walked on yet. Had she been seen? Did Annie somehow know Mikasa was there?

The faces and mutterings and tangle of limbs moved on and Mikasa slid quietly out of the doorway and into the crowd. It didn't take her long to spot the familiar blonde bun and red coat several paces ahead, occasionally dipping out of sight due to her incredible height.

Annie turned a corner and Mikasa hurried after her, knocking a briefcase out of a stranger's clammy hands. He grabbed hold of her arm as she tried to push past and his fingers dug painfully into her bicep.

"Hey-"

Mikasa jerked her arm from his grip and moved on, elbowing her way through the crowd until she was around the corner.

No sign of Annie. Had she missed her? Mikasa took a step forward, craning her neck over the people swarming around her to see. A glimpse of red in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned. Annie was inside a shop, leaning against the counter and shoving something towards the receptionist.

Mikasa backed up, looked at the shop sign, expecting to see something dodgy or mysterious. Fake ID, guns, etc. The sign read out in plain, white letters 'Pharmacy'.

Mikasa shook her head slightly, baffled. She had expected to catch Annie doing something to sabotage the case, maybe even lead Mikasa to Marco Bodt himself. That was how she had talked herself into following Annie in the first place, how she had swallowed her guilt. She hadn’t expected Annie to be going to a pharmacy.

There was a faint tinkling sound as Annie opened the door and walked outside, flinching as the wall of icy air hit her head on. Mikasa gave an involuntary sharp intake of breath and drew into the shadows, pulling her scarf up to her face.

Annie paused, as if she had heard. Mikasa could almost hear her own heartbeat, racing with the fear of being caught. _Buddum_. Annie lifted her head slightly, one shoulder dropping back. _Buddum_.

The moment passed. Annie set off again without turning. Mikasa exhaled. She watched Annie's retreating back, wondering if there was any point in following. As she did, a small crumpled piece of paper tumbled from Annie's coat pocket and hit the ground. A receipt.

Mikasa lunged forward and snatched it up before the wind could blow it away. Her eyes scanned the small, typed up digits and were drawn immediately to the total price at the end.

$1000.

What...? Mikasa looked back at the pharmacy. If it had just been a one-off thing she might have ignored it, but Annie had been in and out of there pretty damn quick, as if she'd been before. A regular purchase? $1000? Mikasa was fairly certain Annie was given the same wage as her and that was nowhere near enough to cover this on top of everything else.

She squinted back at the receipt, trying to make out the purchase, but the ink was smudged. Was that a B? An E?

Then everything went still. Unnaturally still. Artificial and fake, as if someone out of sight was being as unnoticeable as possible. Someone... behind... her. Slowly, Mikasa reached for the gun on her belt- and her fingers met nothing. She wasn't in uniform.

The stillness was broken.

A hand, big and callused, slammed over her mouth. She bucked, jerking her head back into the attacker's chin and there was a satisfying crack, but she was already being wrestled to the ground. Something sharp was pressed into her neck, a needle. No. An injection.

Marco Bodt. It had to be.

She kicked and struggled, biting down on his hand, but her moves were becoming slow, sluggish. Her legs gave way beneath her and her knees hit the ground hard. The grey street was sliding in and out of focus, swaying dangerously.

She lashed out again but there was no power behind it. The last bit off action knocked her off balance and she fell sideways. Hands caught her before she hit the ground. She wasn't sure whose now. Her vision started to go black, stars popping in and out of her remaining vision.

Just before she passed out she caught a glimpse of dark hair and a red coat...

 

_Should I kill her?_

_No. She's mine._

_But what if she works it out? It would be safer-_

_You lay a finger on her and I'll end you._

_I'll end you_

_I'll end..._

 

And then she woke up.

 

Mikasa opened her eyes and groaned, waiting patiently for the world to stop rocking. She was back at home, in her shared apartment. The sun was shining through her bedroom window. She was lying tucked up in bed, still fully clothed, a glass of water on the table beside her.

Had she been dreaming? Had she really been attacked? She looked at the clock. Two p.m. It was too clear to be a dream. But then, why was she back at home, safe and unharmed? She swung herself out of bed and walked into the hall. Empty. So were the rest of the rooms. Eren and Armin were both on duty.

Mikasa shook her head. There was no point worrying about mad axe-murderers leaping out from behind doors to finish her off. Maybe the drugging had been a mistake. Maybe it didn't have anything at all to do with Annie. Mikasa laughed to herself. There was low chance of either. For now, it seemed, she would just have to go with it.

In her pocket her phone buzzed. She pulled it out. Eren.

A fierce sense of protectiveness overtook her for a moment, but she forced it down. Eren would be fine.

She read through the message.

_Armin's in a fight. SOS. Meet me outside work ASAP_

Correction: Eren would be fine, but Armin was not.

Mikasa felt her stomach drop slightly. She was almost as protective of Armin as she was of Eren.

Armin's in a fight. That meant Armin was losing a fight. Armin was not a fighting person. He was made for detective work, strategies and sweet talking- not fighting.

Mikasa shrugged her coat on and grabbed her keys, running out the door. She would tell Eren about her own problems when she got to the police station.

 

She arrived at a sprint, barely out of breath. Eren was outside waiting for her, knee bouncing nervously. Mikasa ran right up to him until they were face to face.

"Car?" She asked.

Eren nodded. All the police cars were kept in a garage to the side of the building. She rushed over to it, scanned her ID and slipped under the door while it was still opening. Eren followed after her.

They opened their car doors and clambered inside. Eren hastily told her the address. Mikasa started the ignition, then the siren. As they drove out, way over the speed limit, Mikasa turned to Eren.

"Before I ask what's going on, I think you need to hear this."

She told Eren about how she had 'bumped into' Annie at the pharmacy, about how she had been attacked and drugged. Eren's eyes widened impossibly with every word. His mouth practically fell open when Mikasa recounted how she'd woken up back in their apartment, perfectly safe and with no explanation.

When she'd finished Eren couldn't seem to find any words. He turned away to look out the window, but Mikasa could tell by the tenseness in his shoulders that he was angry. Angry that someone had dared to attack her.

"Should we tell Armin? He might be able to figure it out."

Mikasa shook her head, jerking the steering wheel as they turned a sharp corner.

"No. He's already under a lot of stress, the fight won't be helping that."

Eren nodded sadly and ran a hand through his already disastrous hair.

"I wish there was something I could do to help him," He muttered.

"There is," Mikasa said flatly.

Eren perked up slightly, looking away from the window and back at Mikasa.

"What?"

"Tell him how you really feel about him."

Eren choked on air, spluttering angrily. Mikasa reached over to thump his back. Eren's face had gone bright red, through lack of oxygen or something else, Mikasa did not know.

"I don't know-" Eren coughed, "-what you're talking about-"

"Be quiet Eren. We're here."

She hadn't needed to know the address to know that, she knew it was the place as soon as she saw it. Why? Because that's where the fight was.

 

She could barely see Armin from where she was in the car. He was surrounded by about five tall men who had him pressed up against the wall. Even as they approached she saw a beefy fist slam into Armin's chin, knocking his head back into the wall. Armin fell onto the ground, clutching his head. A foot smashed into his side and he curled up, trying to block the next kicks, but they came anyway. His body jerked and convulsed as every blow landed. He flung his hands over his face and tried to scramble away.

Mikasa glanced sideways at Eren. His eyes were flashing dangerously and his fists were clenched and shaking at his sides. Mikasa knew that once he got like this, there would be no stopping him.

"Tasers out," she said imperiously. She could not let Eren get carried away and shoot someone with an actual gun.

The thought that she herself was weaponless didn't even occur to her. She didn't need weapons. She pulled over and flung her door open. Beside her, Eren was already charging out of the car.

"STOP! POLICE!" Eren screamed at the top of his lungs, then he threw away his taser and added; "YOU BASTARDS I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!"

Oh god. Mikasa sprinted after Eren, grabbed his arm just before he tried to punch the closest man and slung him over her shoulder, bending down briefly to scoop up his taser.

"MIKASA! GET OFF!"

The men had turned away from Armin, who was still curled up on the ground, and were facing them. A couple of them backed away, not wanting to mess with the police. The rest just laughed. Mikasa stared them down.

"Touch either of them and you die."

"Mikasa..." groaned Eren.

The men continued to laugh.

"Right," snapped Mikasa. "I'm arresting all of you on the charges of assaulting a police officer, harming a defenceless individual, et cetera, et cetera..."

"I'd like to see you try, bitch," said one of the men.

"And resisting arrest," Mikasa finished.

She dropped Eren and promptly tasered the guy who'd spoken. He screamed and collapsed, twitching on the ground. One of his mates stepped forward and grabbed her arm, gripping painfully.

"Hey-"

Mikasa jerked her elbow into his neck and kicked his legs out from beneath him. The rest of the men were treated in a similar fashion. One by one they fell, sporting some injury or other. Mikasa didn't get a single drop of blood on her- Levi would've been proud.

When she was done she wiped her hands on her jeans and returned to the car to get some handcuffs. When she came back Eren was bending over Armin, one hand on his shoulder.

Mikasa handcuffed the offenders and dragged them back to the police car. She quickly sent out a request for backup while sending death glares at the men who cowered beneath her eyes.

Two more police cars were there within five minutes and Eren returned to help them load the men into the cars. When they were safely out of the way they both went back to Armin.

Armin was sitting up now, eyes fixed on the ground and hands shaking. He looked empty, the way he always did after a particularly bad fight. Mikasa still remembered every last one of them from her school days. After her parent's deaths, they were the worst days of her life.

There was a colourful bruise swelling up on Armin's chin and presumably more on his sides, but otherwise he didn't seem to badly hurt. Mikasa had a feeling Armin had managed to postpone the beating a good few minutes by talking. When Armin talked, people had a tendency to listen.

 

Eren extended a hand. There was a moment while Armin looked at it, and it was clear on his face that he wanted nothing more than to take it, then he shoved it away.

"I don't need your help," He whispered.

Armin stood up slowly, using the wall for support. A thin line of blood trickled down from his nose and onto his upper lip. His knees buckled and he slid down the wall a few centimetres. Mikasa hovered close by, ready to catch him if he fell.

At last Armin was standing, one hand against the wall. He looked down, not meeting their eyes.

"Sorry," He mumbled.

Eren stepped towards him and put his hands on Armin's shoulders, fingers digging in tightly.

"You idiot," Eren murmured, his voice rough. "Don't you dare be sorry. Don't apologise to me ever again."

"What are you talking abou-"

His words were cut short by Eren leaning forwards and hugging him, clinging to him as if the world were about to end and he wanted to spend every last second with Armin. Armin froze, unsure of whether to pull back or not.

"You don't want to do that Eren," he mumbled. "I'm useless. A burden. I don't understand why you're friends with me."

Eren said nothing, just held Armin tightly. Armin's shoulders heaved with a sob that he desperately tried to hide, then he went limp, leaning into Eren and breathing him in. His forearms pressed tightly onto Eren's chest and he buried his head just above his collar bone. Eren tightened his grip around Armin and rested his chin on his head.

Mikasa realised that she was probably unwanted. Eren and Armin were obviously having a bit of a moment. She stepped away and turned her back, pulling out her phone to text Annie. She felt guilty and scared just doing it, after all, she'd just been following her, and then attacked, but she felt inexplicably drawn to her. When she switched her phone on, it was Annie’s name she'd found herself scrolling to.

She sent a few brief texts about nothing at all while Armin and Eren hugged behind her. She felt like she was third wheeling... just a bit. Note the sarcasm.

She wondered vaguely whether Armin and Eren would ever just get over their stubbornness and tell each other how they felt- and she knew they had feelings for each other. She hadn't lived with them for most of her life to be oblivious to something so obvious.

She texted Annie to ask her opinion on the not-quite couple but didn't get a reply. Annie was rarely on her phone anyway. She hesitated about casually asking about the pharmacy bill as well, but discarded the idea almost immediately. Annie would surely work out that Mikasa had been following her, had- and still- suspected her of sabotage, if she did such a thing.

"Mikasa."

Mikasa turned around. Eren was holding an arm out to her, smiling slightly.

"You need hug therapy too."

Mikasa laughed quietly as she accepted the hug.

"Why are you acting all touchy-feely, Eren?" She asked teasingly.

"I dunno." Eren sighed and relinquished his hold on Mikasa and Armin. "I've just been thinking recently... I know not much has happened yet with the case, but I can't help feeling that something big is about to happen and if something were to happen to you guys..."

He broke off, unable to express his fears with mere words. His eyes slid onto Mikasa who shook her head slightly.

"I get it Eren," Armin said quietly.

Eren looked at him, green eyes wide.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I feel the same way sometimes. But Eren, I swear nothing is going to happen to me or Mikasa. Especially not with you breathing down our necks."

Eren and Mikasa smiled and Eren ruffled Armin's hair affectionately.

"Thanks man."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mmhmm. Ended it on a nice note there so that I have room to crush everyone's hopes and happiness in the next chapter- I may or may not be joking. Be warned. Anyway, leave a comment and/or kudos. Remember feedback and criticism is VERY welcome! I really want to improve and I will try to take whatever you say on board. Thanks guys :)  
> RainbowQueen out


	9. Please Come Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup readers! How are y'all? Hopefully better than me- pretty much my whole city came down with the great plague (okay maybe a bit dramatic it was just the flu but still) so this week's been a bit hectic. Anyway finally got this chapter of my chest- it's been sitting in the back of my mind this whole time. Hope you guys enjoy it!  
> RainbowQueen out

The next morning Mikasa woke up ten minutes before her alarm, cold and shivering. It was still dark but she opened the curtains anyway, looking outside. There was frost on the windows and snow glowed from the roofs and roads, orange in the streetlights. Apparently, it had fallen heavily overnight and was still snowing now.

Mikasa pulled on her uniform and padded into the kitchen, switching on the kettle and slotting toast into the toaster. She would've made something nicer for Armin who was going to feel awful when he woke up, maybe bacon and eggs, but for all her many talents, she couldn't cook for shit.

Eren stumbled into the room, rubbing his sleep deprived eyes aggressively. He had the most spectacular bedhead Mikasa had seen in a long time. Before he could be fully aware of what she was doing, Mikasa snapped a picture. Further blackmail- only for his protection of course. Next time he got it into his head to do something horrendously stupid, Mikasa had the means of stopping him.

Armin emerged behind him, yawning. One hand was cupping his chin which shone purple beneath his fingers.

"Feeling alright, Armin?" She asked.

Armin whined in response.

"I don't think either of you should go to work today."

Eren promptly dropped his toast, butter side down.

"What?" He demanded. "Why me?"

"You're bruised from when I dropped you." _I need to speak to Annie about the pharmacy in private._

"I'm fine Mikasa!"

"No, you're not. Besides, you need to stay here and look after Armin."

"I don't need looking after!" Armin interrupted.

Mikasa sighed. Why were they both so stubborn?

"Armin, you want Eren to stay here with you," Mikasa said slowly.

"No, I-" Armin caught Mikasa's eye and swallowed, "-um, yes. Definitely. Besides, it's snowing out there and you don't have a coat Eren. I put it in the wash after you got it dirty yesterday."

Mikasa nodded her approval at Armin and he relaxed visibly.

Eren glared at him. _Traitor,_  he mouthed. Armin shrugged apologetically. What could he do against the great force that was Mikasa?

"Right, that's sorted then," Said Mikasa, shrugging on her coat and slipping her phone into the pocket. "On no condition are either of you to leave the house."

She ran down the stairs, shouting her goodbyes as she flung open the door. The cold hit her like a brick wall, but thankfully the snow wasn't actually as bad as she had thought and she was able to go outside without getting drenched.

 

She chose to walk to work, wanting to take as long as possible. Mikasa knew that today was the day when she'd have to confront Annie, she almost wished she'd been snowed in so she could avoid it, but this whole thing had gone long enough. She had seen Annie with Marco Bodt yesterday, had been attacked and drugged by him. The fact that she had woken up safe and at home didn't change a thing.

There was something she had to do first though, before coming to work. A few minutes detour away, just on the outskirts of the city, was a graveyard. Not just any graveyard. The one that her parents resided in. Mikasa turned down the road that would take her there, hands clenched into fists inside her pockets.

The graveyard was quite big, as graveyards go, but her parents were right by the entrance. She opened the gate and walked inside, treading softly in the snow as if her footsteps would disturb the dead.

The graveyard seemed to be deserted. She wound her way between the headstones to her parents grave, a simple stone in the ground with their names and birthdates carved into it. Mikasa had been the only one alive able to give them an inscription, but at the time of their deaths she had been too young.

Later, Eren had helped her carve her message onto the back of the stone with a sharp rock. After all these years, it was still there. _Please come back._

"So, um," Mikasa cleared her throat awkwardly. "I know it's been a while, but hi, sorry for not talking sooner."

 _What an idiot you are_ , she thought to herself angrily. _Talking to dead bodies._

"Um, I'm here about my friend- my close friend Annie. I think she's up to something and I don't know what to do. I really, really want to let her get away with whatever she's doing because I think-" she paused and wiped her eyes and nose (it was cold, okay? Absolutely nothing to do with crying...) "I think I might love her, and that scares me."

She tugged nervously on her scarf, breathing deeply. She had finally admitted it- to herself if not to her parents. Had finally admitted the truth, why she hadn't told anyone about Annie. She was so, so very scared.

"Um, thanks. I- I better get to work."

She turned away from the stone and nearly yelled out. Captain Levi was in the graveyard too, barely a few metres away. He was walking deftly through the graves as if they weren't there. Had he noticed her? How much had he heard?

"Sir?"

Levi stopped abruptly and looked up. The dark rings under his eyes were more pronounced than usual, making his face seem skeletal. Mikasa frowned slightly and tugged nervously at her scarf.

"What are you doing here?"

"What do you think I'm doing here?" He replied bitterly. It was then that Mikasa noticed the single snowdrop he held tightly in one hand. She felt a sudden hard lump in her throat. She knew exactly why Levi was here.

"Oh. It's today. I'm so sorr-"

"It's fine. You're welcome to come with me if you want. You brats knew her as well."

"... Ok."

She followed Levi through the graveyard, trailing behind by a few feet. At the very back of the graveyard, where all the most recent stones were standing, they stopped. All was silent but for the shrill bird cries in the trees above them.

Levi stepped up to one of the headstones, his boots crunching in the snow. Very slowly, he sunk to his knees. The snowdrop fell into the snow in front of him. It was soon followed by a tear. The headstone was covered in frost but Mikasa didn’t need to be able to see it to know what it had said;

Petra Ackerman  
1978-2011  
Loved by all who knew her  
She shall not be forgotten.

Levi stood and turned to face her, his eyes lowered slightly.

"Thank you."

There were a million things Mikasa could have said. She could've confessed about Annie, she could've consoled Levi, she could've mentioned her parents. Instead she went for the most practical, and probably most suitable answer.

"That's okay, sir. She meant a lot to all of us."

It was true, and because of that Mikasa couldn't believe she'd forgotten. On this exact day, two years ago, there had been an accident. To Mikasa, it had seemed like another ordinary day, probably to everyone else too. And then they'd got the call. Their suspect had stormed into a building with a gun, taken a hostage and retreated to the top floor.

All the more experienced officers had rushed out; Petra, Levi, Auruo, Eld and Gunter, leaving Mikasa and the other rookies behind. By that point Petra and Levi had been married for several years.

They had heard the explosion from where they sat in the police office. Everyone that had been in that building was killed. They said that the suspect had been a suicide bomber. The only one to survive had been Levi who had received notice just before entering that a criminal he'd been hunting down for months had been apprehended on the other side of town.

After that no one had wanted to join Levi's squad. Now it was just the five of them, four still in their early twenties.

"We need to get to work," Said Levi.

Mikasa nodded.

As they left they ran into Hanji, looking unusually somber.

"Just finished the rounds," she told them. "Cleaned up the graves. I saw that you went to see Petra."

"Yeah," said Levi, his voice unusually rough.

"Erwin came by earlier. He said to send his sympathy on to you."

"I don't need his sympathy." Levi scowled

Mikasa had to stop herself from snorting, Levi was so much like Eren sometimes. Hanji finally noticed her and her glasses flashed crazily.

"You're Mikasa Ackerman, right? I've heard lots of stuff about your work! I'd love for us to have a talk over coffee sometime-"

Mikasa was saved from answering by Levi.

"D.I. Ackerman has enough to go on with without your shitty talks Hanji."

"Aw, Levi, you're no fun."

"Not today I'm not."

Hanji immediately looked guilty and the three of them walked in dead silence back to the police station, Mikasa and Hanji dropping back behind Levi who looked like he wanted to kill a man.

Annie was already there when they got there, staring dully down at her work. There were heavy dark rings under her eyes and an empty coffee cup by her hand. She didn't look up when they entered, opting to continue to glare at her work as though it had offended her somehow.

Mikasa glanced at Levi before slipping into the chair beside Annie, propelling herself closer, her feet scuffing the carpet, and silently thanked whoever it was that had invented chairs on wheels. Annie glanced up once Mikasa stopped. Her expression didn't change, though her fingers twitched slightly and she carefully put down the document she'd been reading.

"I texted you," Mikasa muttered.

"I don't use my phone."

"You know today's the anniversary of the incident right?"

"Mhm."

Annie picked up another document and skimmed through it.

"I need to talk to you after work."

Annie's eyes snapped up and her hands tensed. Mikasa could sense a sort of hardness coming over Annie, as if she were turning to stone and Mikasa half expected her to refuse.

"Locker rooms. After everyone's left."

Mikasa's eyes widened but she said nothing. Hanji was beginning to look at them funny from where she stood with Levi in a corner of the room.

"Thanks," Mikasa whispered and wheeled herself away again. She could swear Hanji's eyes were laughing at her from behind her thick glasses.

 

The rest of the day passed achingly slowly. There were no new leads and neither Annie, nor herself had anything to do with themselves but stare glumly at paperwork. Eren texted every few minutes, begging to come to work. To be honest, Mikasa couldn't even begin to understand his enthusiasm. She replied back each time with a firm 'no.' She needed this talk with Annie.

Levi didn't leave his office once until it was eight o'clock at night. He slid open his door, pulling on a coat as he did so.

"I'm off. You brats should be too."

They nodded, both as expressionless as the other.

"Oh, and Mikasa?"

Mikasa blinked in surprise. It was not often Levi addressed her personally.

"Yes sir?"

"Make sure Arlert and Jaeger come tomorrow."

Out of the corner of her eye, Mikasa saw Annie smirk.

"Of course sir. If they are able."

Levi nodded, then walked past them, leaving the room without another word. Annie and Mikasa fidgeted awkwardly in the silence he left them in. At last Annie picked up her stuff and stood.

"Come on. I need to talk with you too."

 

They sat shoulder to shoulder in the privacy of the locker rooms. Annie's head was  
bowed, her bangs covering her eyes. Mikasa watched her with concern.

"I know you suspect me," Annie said in a low voice.

Mikasa hesitated before nodding. "Yes."

Annie looked up at her. They were almost nose to nose. "What would you do if I said your suspicions were correct?"

Mikasa gave a small gasp. Her eyes darted beseechingly over Annie's face, looking for the truth. She had prepared for this- had spent all afternoon going over how to pose the right question in her mind. She hadn't expected Annie to beat her to it though. It almost made her want to disbelieve her again, feign Annie's innocence.

"I don't know," She whispered. "Once, I would have turned you in. Now..."

"That's what I thought."

Their eyes met. Slowly Annie leant forward. Their lips met for the briefest of moments, hardly brushing, before Annie suddenly stopped and pulled away, standing up.

"I have to go." She turned and left, leaving Mikasa to sit alone in the room, frozen in shock.

She was so screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Mikasa, she is too precious. Precious cinnamon roll. Anyways, hopefully that chapter was okay, sorry it was short :) Rember to leave a comment and/or kudos! Critism is very, very welcome- even if it's just a little thing. Thanks!  
> RainbowQueen out


	10. It's Not Like That

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Ok, so, sudden realisation I have fallen behind in my writing. Fingers crossed I get the next chapter done on time. Sorry guys- but I discovered Hunter x Hunter and I am hooked. It is actually the best thing on this universe :) So I forgot to write stuff but I will try to catch up a bit. Hope you enjoy this chapter!  
> RainbowQueen out

"You know, you two are adorable."

"Shut up."

"Never. This is golden, Ymir. Just golden."

Ymir glowered at Jean but didn't move. Krista was sleeping with her head resting on Ymir's shoulder, golden hair sticking to her face. She shifted slightly and mumbled a few words in her sleep.

"Aww," Sneered Jean. He was having way too much fun.

"Shut up horse-face or I swear I will fucking end you," hissed Ymir.

"Not while sleeping beauty's on your shoulder."

Ymir clenched her fists but didn't move. Jean poked his tongue out at her. Now that Marco wasn't here, he had no boundaries. He knew he was right. Ymir would never wake Krista, especially while she was sitting right there, with her face nuzzling her neck.

"I swear, as soon as I can get up-"

"Shhh," interrupted Jean. "You'll wake her!"

Krista sighed in her sleep, her eyelids fluttering and Jean raised an eyebrow. It had been a hard few days for her, for all of them. Winter had come and had brought snow along to the party. Unfortunately, the warehouse had no central heating. There also weren't as many people on the streets to steal beg from so food had been scarce, if at all.

That was why Marco had gone out to find sticks, paper, anything to make a fire with without being seen by anyone- or being stabbed again. He'd already been a few times, occasionally with Jean tagging along behind. The last time they'd gone Marco had found a phone charger, still useable. Jean had had a private party of one over the rebirth of his phone. There had been much rejoicing.

"He's been gone a while," commented Ymir, looking anywhere but at the angel on her shoulder.

"Didn't turn out so bad for you though did it?" Teased Jean.

"Will you shut the fuck up about this? It's not like-"

Krista shifted on the crate she and Ymir were sitting on so that they were closer, her nose tickling Ymir’s collarbone, a hand wrapping sleepily around Ymir's waist.

"Shhh," she mumbled. "Comfy."

"Shit," Ymir whispered, under her breath. There was a red glow beginning to shine behind the freckles on her cheeks.

"Hold up, hold up," Said Jean. "Are you- are you blushing?"

This was perfect. This was fucking perfect.

"Shit, you're actually blushing! This is so unreal. I have to tell Marco-"

"You tell Marco and I will destroy you, Jean. I will fucking destroy you," Ymir stage whispered, blushing harder.

"I don't get what the big deal is anyway," continued Jean. "I mean, we all know you're hella gay and you practically spend every night cuddling Krista like she's your fucking teddy bear."

"Oh, and you don't with Marco?"

That stopped Jean. He froze, face red.

"It's not- it's not like that."

Ymir smiled, finally with the upper hand.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah really. We're just friends."

Jean forced himself to believe the words coming out of his mouth. Willed himself to. _Don't get attached,_  He berated himself. _You'll only be sadder later._

"Friends don't act around each other the way you two do. Friends don't blush so hard just thinking about each other."

Jean immediately covered his face with his hands.

"Shutup, shutup, shutup!"

"The truth is you're scared," Ymir whispered. "You're a coward. I risked my life fighting for the exact same thing you're pushing away."

"I'm not pushing away anything!"

"Liar!"

The word rang loudly around the warehouse and Krista's eyes snapped open. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes.

"Sorry," Ymir muttered, sending a scathing glare in Jean's direction.

"Did I...?" Krista gestured with her eyes to Ymir's shoulder.

Ymir looped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close.

"Don't worry about it."

 

The door swung open and a gust of wind swooped inside, bring Marco with it. Jean shielded his eyes against the sudden light. He had been cooped up in the warehouse so long he had gotten used to the dark.

"Good timing," muttered Ymir.

"Afternoon!" Marco called cheerily.

He walked inside, discarding the day's findings in a messy pile on the ground. There was nothing of interest, today had been a quiet day. Marco approached them, stopping only when he was right behind Jean. He bent down and rested his chin on Jean's shoulder. It was nothing out of the ordinary- but Jean found himself blushing hard and looking away. Ymir kept giving him meaningful glares.

"So what've you all been doing?"

"Oh, the usual," snapped Jean. Ymir's words were making him edgy. "Sitting around doing nothing, praying to god we don't get caught."

He shrugged Marco of his shoulder, who looked hurt, coming around to sit beside Jean instead.

"Look, I said I'm sorry. There's only so much I can do."

"Yeah."

Jean glowered at his knees angrily. _Friends don't act around each other the way you two do._

"Jean, are you okay?"

Marco dipped his head, trying to catch Jean's eye. Jean turned his back on him. His mind was alight with Ymir's words. If he were to look at Marco now... he shuddered. _Don't get too close_.

He'd thought long and hard about his options. Everyday he and Marco were in risk of being caught and imprisoned. Jean's only way of survival would be to call himself a hostage- therefore naming Marco the criminal. If it came to that... Jean wanted to be able to do that without the guilt that getting attached to Marco would bring.

' _Liar_.'

Jean closed his eyes shakily. Ymir was wrong. That was it. It had to be.

But even if it wasn't, even if they weren't in danger, would Jean have the courage to actually tell Marco his feelings? To say the three words? _I like you?_ No, he couldn't think like this. Goddamn Ymir and her fucking intuition.

"Krista, is Jean alright?" Marco asked.

"Don't speak to me as if I'm not here!" The words came from his mouth with unexpected anger. All his emotions, everything he'd felt over the last few weeks had been packed into a small glass box in the corner of his mind, deep, deep in his subconscious, through the mess of all his thoughts and dreams and emotions. A crack split on the side of the box.

"Sorry Jean. I shouldn't have."

"Yeah, you got that fucking right."

"Jean."

The intensity, the worry Marco put into his name made Jean look around. Marco put a hand on his shoulder.

"Seriously Jean, are you okay?"

Jean shrugged the hand of the shoulder and stood up. Another crack spread down the length of the box.

"Maybe I would be if you'd never dragged me here to join your dream team!"

Jean hated the words coming out of his mouth but he couldn't stop them. Something inside him was breaking and he couldn't seem to stop it. Marco stood up too.

"What is with you today?"

"It's okay Marco," Ymir said. "Little baby Jean-bo’s just scared."

"Shut up!" Snapped Jean.

"Stay out of this Ymir," Krista warned. Her eyes were wide with confusion.

"I don't understand!" Said Marco. "You were perfectly happy every other day! You've never complained once."

"Well maybe I'm just tired! It's not my fucking fault we're here."

"I thought-"

"You thought that after the I knew the truth I'd get used to this place? You thought I'd find a second home here? You thought I'd actually like you?"

Marco shook his head slightly, looking pale and shocked.

Jean wanted to apologise, he wanted to wrap his arms around Marco and tell him it was okay, tell him it wasn't his fault, but he had lost control over his own actions, his own mind.

"I thought you'd at least understand."

"You thought wrong!"

Bam. Third crack. Tears bit the back of Jean's eyes but he held them down. What had happened to the laughing, carefree Jean he'd been only five minutes ago?

"Jean-"

"I never asked for this! I didn't want to be shoved into hiding with two psychopaths and a freckled piece of shit like you! My parents have no idea I'm here! My friends probably think I'm a criminal! And it's all because of you, you freckled bastard! While you're here- we're all in danger!"

"Jean!"

And the box exploded.

"I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE!"

Marco had gone oddly still. There was an odd shine in his usually warm eyes. When he spoke his voice was weak and quiet.

"Why are you doing this?"

Ymir finally stood up too, throwing off the restraining grip Krista had on her arm.

"If you really want out, go. Coward."

Jean froze. He hadn't meant to go this far. Fuck, he hadn't meant to get angry at all. Part of him wanted to blame Ymir, but he knew it was his fault. It was all his fault.

"Fine," he muttered.

He picked up his phone from the ground and shoved it into his pocket.

"Fine!"

He marched towards the door, the anger inside him burning painfully. He stopped just before he left and turned back.

"Don't wait up."

 

***

 

Ymir watched Jean's retreating back coldly. Jean didn't deserve anyone like Marco anyway. Nevertheless, there was a heavy silence in the warehouse. It felt empty somehow without him.

"I'm going too."

Krista and Ymir both looked up at Marco, surprised.

"He's right. You're both in danger while I'm here. I'll find somewhere else to stay until all this dies down."

"Marco-" Krista started. But he was already gone.

Ymir looked down at Krista, half expecting her to be in tears. To her surprise Krista's eyes were dry. She looked up at Ymir and Ymir realised that she was actually just angry. Angry and cold. The thought seemed oddly appeasing to Ymir.

"I've got to go after them," Krista said. He voice was steady with a scary determination.

Ymir felt something tug at the bottom of her stomach- guilt.

"No," She planted a kiss on her head and smiled bashfully. "I'll do it. This is sort of my fault anyway. You guard the base."

She shrugged on a coat and tried to grin reassuringly at Krista.

"You'll come back quickly, right?" Krista asked. "I don't like being left here alone."

Ymir rested a hand on Krista's blonde head and looked down at her, hardly able to bear the amount of affection and responsibility she had towards her.

"I will always come back, Historia."

Then, she too, left.

 

***

Back in the police department, a computer screen flashed. Annie leaned forward and maximised the screen, brow furrowed. For a minute she watched the staticky video footage, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Then her eyes widened. She reached for her phone, her arm sweeping her unfinished coffee off the table in the process, the dark liquid spreading slowly over the carpet. The only sound in the silence was the _tap tap_ of Annie's fingers on the screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jean's not taking things very well, poor guy. Hopefully you guys like that chapter! Comment and/or kudos welcome as usual :) Au revoir!  
> RainbowQueen out  
> ~~~  
> Oh Jean you salty cinnamon roll. Hopefully things work out haha.  
> -InsaneFictionGeek out


	11. Better Be Home Soon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! So, uh, I didn't do a very good job off catching up with my writing... yeah, every time I sat down I would end up writing slam poetry or prompts instead. But I got this chapter finished! Just be warned, if I don't post next week that's why. Enjoy!  
> RainbowQueen out

Historia sat alone in the warehouse, hugging her knees. And yes, Historia was her actual name- not Krista, as she had lead Jean to believe. She wasn't sure where she'd got that name from- somewhere in a book maybe?

She bit her lip nervously, glancing at her watch. They had been gone for hours, all three of them. She wasn't even sure where they were or why they weren't here, everything had been a bit of a blur. One moment she was waking up with her head plastered to Ymir's shoulder (bliss), the next Jean and Marco were yelling at each other, Ymir was yelling at them and all Historia could do was sit there, getting angrier by the second.

Her anger had cooled off now though, only to be replaced by fear. Where were they? Where was Ymir?

Her parting words played in her head over and over again, like a broken cassette. _I will always come back, Historia_. They had been the exact words Historia had said to Ymir before they left her home country. Those words had meaning. They had everything, every precious moment they would return to.

A million different scenarios powered through her mind. What if something happened and Ymir didn't come back? She knew she couldn't think like this. Ymir was probably fine. She'd probably found Jean and Marco and they were all heading back now. Yes, that was what had happened.

Historia allowed herself to be lulled into a false sense of security, leaning back and closing her eyes. She knew perfectly well that all three of them were capable of looking after themselves- well, maybe not Jean. Hopefully Ymir found him before he caused himself an injury. After all those weeks cooped up with him, she had actually grown fond of the sour boy, strange as it may seem. They all had.

Please let them all get back safely.

She caught her lip between her teeth, thinking hard. Then she remembered- she had a way of communicating after all. It was funny how being kept well away from society for weeks could cause you to forget something so simple as a phone.

She patted the phone in her pocket for reassurance but didn't take it out. No-one but Ymir knew about the phone, not even Marco. Ymir owned one almost identical to it, had had so ever since they'd arrived in the country. They were strictly for emergency use though- nothing else- just incase the call was intercepted seeing as Ymir supposedly didn't exist. But... this was an emergency wasn't it?

She slipped her hand into her pocket and pulled it out slowly. Her fingers clumsily hit the top button. Nothing happened. Historia could feel her throat constricting slightly. She pressed it again- for longer this time. An empty battery lit up the screen. Shit.

Now what? She chewed on her lip anxiously. Didn't Jean have a charger? She could vaguely remember him finding one with Marco around a week ago while looking for scraps.

She walked over to the corner of the room he and Marco had claimed. _Please let the charger be there._ She shook out the thin blanket and something clattered to the floor. Score! She picked up the charger and scanned the room for a power socket. She was sure there was still a working one otherwise Jean wouldn't have been able to charge his own phone. Someone must have forgotten to turn off the electricity.

She spotted one quickly, not far from where Jean normally sat (surprise, surprise). She plugged in her phone quickly and sighed in relief when the symbol for 'charging' lit up the screen. Now she would just have to wait until it had enough charge to call Ymir.

She huddled up in the middle of the floor, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around herself. She daren't make a fire, there was barely enough kindling to make it through the evening- let alone the night. Cold air tickled the back of her neck and slithered down her spine, making the hair on the nape of her neck stand on end. Her fingers felt like they'd been jammed in a door, or maybe a book press. She blew on them quietly, trying to get the blood flowing.

Footsteps echoed outside. Historia's head snapped up so fast her neck clicked and she gasped, rubbing the stiffness out of her muscles around her shoulders. There had been one- no, two pairs of footsteps. They came to a halt outside the warehouse door.

"Ymir?" Her voice came out as nothing more than a soft croak.

There was no sound outside. No movement. She glanced quickly at her phone. It was still out of battery.

"Marco?" This time only a whisper came out.

The door creaked open very slowly. Something was wrong. Historia scooted back into the shadows. There were no weapons, nothing to defend herself with. Where was Ymir?

Two people walked in, hoods pulled down over their faces. They were definitely not Jean or Marco or Ymir. They were too tall, too muscular, too threatening. They didn't see her at first, their eye's too busy taking in all their stuff, signs that people had lived there. Maybe they were the people that had stabbed Marco.

Historia didn't move a muscle. What should she do? There was no way out and they were bound to see her eventually. There was only one thing she could do, really. Trembling, she stood up. Everything that Historia was was screaming at her but she didn't back down. She stared defiantly at the backs of the intruders and cleared her throat.

They both spun around at once, hands flying to the guns in their pockets that she had only just noticed now. Shit. She forced herself not to run, she had to stand her ground, even if they were both twice her height.

"Get out," She said. They ignored her, of course.

"Who are you?"

"I said get out."

The shorter one of them stepped forward, drawing his gun.

"Where's Jean Kirstein and Marco Bodt?"

It was more of a demand then a request. Historia bit back the gasp that threatened to escape her lips. How did they know?

"I don't know who you're talking about," she said, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

"I think you do. Are they hiding somewhere?"

He turned the safety catch off and aimed his gun at Historia.

"No, I- I don't know. They left earlier today."

Historia slapped a hand over her own mouth. What was she doing?

The one with the gun stepped right up to her and placed the barrel of the gun right between her eyes. Historia caught a flash of blonde hair underneath the hood.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know."

The gun pressed harder into her head.

"I'm going to repeat that. Where. Are. They?"

Historia said nothing.

"One..."

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!_

"Two..."

Historia shut her eyes.

"Thr-"

He was interrupted by a loud ding. All three of them looked around at Historia's phone which was finally charged enough to work.

"Get that will you, Bertl?" Asked the gun wielding guy.

Bertl? Hadn't she heard that name before somewhere? She didn't have time to dwell on it however.

"Check her contacts."

Why hadn't she thought to put a fucking passcode on her phone?

"There's only one," said Bertl. "Ymir."

Historia could feel her whole world falling apart around her. This couldn't be happening.

"Who's Ymir, shorty?"

Historia bit her lip so hard it bled. No way were they getting that information.

"I said WHO'S YMIR?"

The fist caught her on the side of her face, knocking her onto the ground. Her head was ringing painfully. Why was the world spinning? A knife pressed into her neck.

"Give me an answer or I'll kill you and all your friends when they return."

"She..." Historia swallowed. "She's my girlfriend. She went out looking for Jean and Marco hours ago."

"Bertl, I think we need to have a chat with this Ymir. Maybe she'll cooperate better than shorty here."

"No!"

The knife tip pricked her throat and she felt something hot trickle down her neck. Blood.

"Don't speak until we tell you to. Don't move without our permission."

Historia couldn't do anything in response. The tears she was sure should be there hadn't come and her eyes were dry. At least she hadn't shamed herself that much. Bertl tossed her phone to the gun (and now knife) man who caught it nimbly. All she could do was watch silently as his finger hit 'call'.

Ymir picked up immediately. How she still had charge on her phone Historia didn't know- she'd probably stolen Jean's charger too. When once she would have been relieved, now all she could do was curse silently.

_"Historia, why the fuck are you calling me? Are you okay?"_

Historia barely registered the raised eyebrow sent in her direction. They knew who she was now.

"If you don't co-operate with us, she won't be."

There was a very long silence on Ymir's side of the call. Historia held her breath, or maybe she was just so nervous she couldn't breathe anyway.

" _Who the fuck is this?"_

"You don't need to know that. All you need to know is that we have your girlfriend and we really want to know where Jean Kirstein and Marco Bodt are."

" _Quit lying you little fucktard._ "

"Historia," he said, and the pressure of the knife increased. "Say hello to your girlfriend."

"Ymir!" Historia shouted.

_"Historia! Shit, they have got you!"_

"Ymir, don't give in to them! I'll be fine!"

"Shut it, blondie!"

Once again the fist slammed into her face and she cried out, pain flashing up the side of her cheek and throbbing agonisingly.

" _Historia_!"

"I'm... fine," Historia groaned.

She winced and glared at the gun man. Bertl was standing still behind them, looking on.

_"You bastards! Give me back my Historia right now or I swear I will fucking mutilate you!"_

"Tell us where Jean and Marco are and we'll let her go."

_"I don't fucking know, do I? They just ran off."_

The gunman whirled around, briefly letting go of Historia, and fired at the far wall. The sudden bang caused Historia to scream and she cursed her weakness silently.

"The next one goes into your girlfriend's head!"

_"I'll get them to you!"_

Historia felt her stomach drop. No. The gun man nodded thoughtfully and lowered his gun.

"Go on..."

_"If you get me Jean's number, I'll call him and tell him... tell him Marco's in danger or something. He won't be able to resist that."_

"I'll text the number. And Marco?"

_"Trust me, wherever Jean is, Marco won't be far behind."_

Historia wanted to be sick. How could Ymir sell them out so easily? How could she?

"It won't work."

Historia and her attacker both looked around in astonishment as Bertl finally decided to make his voice heard.

"We tried calling him, Reiner. He didn't pick up."

The first thing Historia registered about that sentence was the attacker's name; Reiner. The second was- they had called Jean? For a moment she thought she'd heard wrong, then everything fell into place. She had heard their names before. Jean had mentioned Bertl and Reiner, had said that they were his friends. How could these monsters be Jean's friends?

_"Let me try! Please!"_

"Ymir, don't do it!" Historia yelled.

"Shut the fuck up! Fine. You have one chance. Get him back within an hour or Historia dies."

Reiner fumbled with the phone, searching for the 'end call' button. It occurred to Historia that this might be her last chance to speak to Ymir. Ever again.

"Ymir! Please!"

_"Historia, it'll be fine! I swear-"_

Tears were beginning to flood down her cheeks to form rivers, oceans, on the cold stone floor.

"I love you Ymir!"

_"I love you t-"_

The call ended with a tiny beep. Historia started screaming. She wasn't sure what she was saying. She didn't care. She knocked the knife out of Reiner's hand and lunged at him blindly, hitting him over and over again. Tears and spit clogged up her mouth and she choked and sobbed, kicking out as hands dragged her away roughly and slammed her onto the floor. She pushed herself back up into a kneeling position, slamming her hands on the ground, screaming even louder. She'd never lost control like this before.

"SHUT HER UP!"

Bertl stepped in front of her, holding the gun. Historia was too far gone to care. The butt of the gun slammed into the side of her head and she fell like a marionette whose strings had been cut. Everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading guys! Fingers crossed for an update next week.  
> RainbowQueen out


	12. Small Acts of Cowardice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So this is... a day late. Not too bad. I haven't even started chapter 13 though. Will try my best to catch up with my writing. Hope you guys all enjoy this chapter, it was written very fast and proobably not that good but oh well. I tried.  
> RainbowQueen out

Jean stormed angrily through the deserted streets, hands stuffed deep in his pockets and fingers pressing hard into his palms in an attempt to retain some of the dying heat that was rapidly leaving his body the longer he stayed outside. Snow fell lightly into his hair and onto his eyelashes, turning his cheeks blue. He pulled up his coat collar and shivered. No one else had been stupid enough to go out in this weather.

He found a wall lining the path that was at perfect sitting height. Checking that there was no one nearby, he tucked his coat neatly underneath his legs and sat, wrapping his arms around himself. It was so fucking cold. He hadn't realised how well the thin warehouse walls had blocked out this killer wind.

How long had it been, hours? He shivered. Every part of him yearned to go back, to apologise, to let things go back to what had become... normal. But no matter how cold he was, the anger still burned inside him. He missed his family, his friends, his home. Marco had taken it all from him for the price of a fun night playing video games and pancakes. In his pockets, Jean's hands clenched into fists. He’d had enough.

He stood and started walking again, not caring where he was going. In front of him was Marco, falling through the doorway to his house, face pale and clammy. Marco, stumbling back as Jean punched him. Marco, collapsing as a blade was plunged into his stomach.

Jean yelled in frustration and kicked a wall. A passerby on the street rushed past, glancing at him fearfully. Jean closed his eyes, squeezing out the light and embracing the darkness. When he opened them again all he could see was Marco. Marco laughing and shoving Jean away as he tried to turn the page of his book. Marco waking up from a nightmare and shaking as he pushed himself into Jean's open arms. Marco leaning over him as he woke, their noses bumping, and murmuring 'good morning' with a sleepy smile. Jean smiling back before pushing Marco off him with a muffled curse.

 _Stop_.

But he couldn't. How had his life come to this? His whole world revolved around Marco, the fucking freckled bastard with his perfect fucking personality. Also a murder convict. Great.

Jean's phone started buzzing in his pocket. Surprised, he pulled it out. The number was blocked. He let it ring for a while, debating whether to hang up or not. Before he could decide the ringing stopped and switched to voice mail.

 

_Hey, you've reached Jean's voice mail-_

_You mean horse mail!_

_Connie that wasn't even a little funny. Get the fuck off my phone._

_Jeannnnn, where do you keep the chocolate?_

_Second shelf o- Sasha WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU EATING_

_... I don't know_

_Oh my god, Bertl, isn't that yours?_

_SASHA SPIT THAT OUT NO-_

* _beep_ *

There was a moment of staticky silence and then a new voice spoke.

_Jean pick the fucking phone up. Stop being a little bitch. This is important._

 

Jean frowned. The voice was muffled so he was unable to make out who it was. In his hand, his phone started ringing again. Hesitantly, he answered it.

"Yeah?"

" _Hey, is this Jean?_ "

"Yeah...?"

The voice on the end of the line was horribly familiar.

"Ymir?"

" _Yeah, it is. Jean listen-_ "

"Woah, hold up!" Said Jean, "How did you get my number? And why are you calling me?"

" _Marco's in trouble! You need to get to the warehouse **now**. Hurry! Please-_ "

There was a beep as Ymir hung up. Jean let his arm drop to his side. His heart was thudding out a drumroll in his chest. Marco was in trouble. Marco is in danger. Jean had two clear options; stick to his word and leave, or save Marco. Fight or flight. Maybe they had fought, maybe Jean still felt angry, but Marco was in danger and hell if he wasn't going to get him out of it.

He wasn’t going to be a coward. Not this time.

"Hold on Marco," he whispered. "Here I come."

 

***

 

Eren burst through the door to the police office, eyes alight. Everyone looked up at him, unimpressed.

"Jean Kirstein has been sighted!"

Immediate change of atmosphere. Armin's whole face lit up and he reached for his hat on the desk beside him. Levi materialised in the doorway to his office, an eyebrow raised. But Annie and Mikasa both stood up, looking shocked. Annie was the first to speak.

"It's probably a ruse."

"I don't fucking care what it is," snarled Levi. "Armin, Eren, get the hell out there."

"But sir!" Annie protested. "Wouldn't it be better if Mikasa and I went?"

"Uh- No?" Snorted Eren. "C'mon Armin."

"Sir, neither Armin nor Eren are qualified enough to do this."

"They'll be leading a team so even if they blunder they have backup," Levi said. "I want you and Mikasa here in case things don't go... as planned."

"Sir-"

"End of discussion."

Levi glowered at her and gave her a look that could wipe out an army. Annie returned it with one of her own death glares. Eren, Armin and Mikasa looked between them with a terrified fascination. It was like watching a tennis game- but without the ball... and the rackets. A tennis game of the minds. Levi and Annie were fighting a purely telepathic battle.

Inevitably, Levi won. Annie finally broke eye contact, taking the tiniest step back. Armin and Eren both relaxed, relieved that they wouldn't have to get caught up in a full on fight. Mikasa just looked at straight ahead, jaw clenched tight.

Levi turned his glare onto them.

"Jaeger, Arlert; get your asses out there. If you don't bring the Kirstein kid back you're going to wish you'd never been born."

Armin and Eren both nodded, then turned and fled from the room. At least they could pretend they were running in their eagerness to get on the case and not for... other reasons. Namely, a short and very, very angry man with violent tendencies.

Eren took the driver's seat of the police car and Armin noticeably hesitated before getting into the car.

"What?" Whined Eren. "My driving's not that bad!"

"You just keep telling yourself that," Armin muttered, but he smiled slightly all the same.

Eren hit the gas and they lurched forward and out onto the road. His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel. Armin watched as his knuckles slowly turned white.

"Nervous?" He asked.

"No!" Eren drove faster. Armin eyed the speedometer anxiously and gripped the sides of his seat.

"Are you?" Eren asked, a bit too loudly, a bit too desperately.

Armin considered the question. He hadn't noticed before because of the adrenaline kicking in, but there were butterflies in his stomach, fighting to get out. Even as he thought about it, his gut gave an unpleasant lurch and he shivered, clutching his belly.

"Yeah."

Eren seemed to relax and the speed of the car eased a bit. Thank god.

"Do you think it's genuine?" Armin asked.

"I dunno. The person on the phone was an anonymous caller so it seems a bit dodgy... then again I guess maybe they were in danger. This is Marco Bodt we're dealing with after all."

Armin nodded. Marco Bodt... there was still something off about him. Armin frowned and looked out the window, trying to make sense of everything. As far as the case was concerned, it was all perfectly logical. Marco was supposed to be babysitting that night. He'd turned up, murdered the kids and vanished just as the police got there. Armin winced, remembering the bullets the military police had shot at his retreating back.

Nevertheless... Armin had looked closer into the investigation (that was his job so why wouldn't he?) and there were elements that didn't quite match up, the most obvious one being Bodt's motivation. Annie had passed that off as Marco being drunk or high or possibly having mental health issues, but Armin had investigated all those too.

He had personally talked to the friends and family of Marco- no issues, no drugs and as far as they were concerned, no drinking. Marco's mother had cried and clutched at his shirt, asking him desperately how such a lovely boy could go so wrong. Armin didn't know.

After that Armin had looked even further, checking out records of the traffic around the area of the victims' house the night of the incident. Then he looked at the time Bodt had left his house. There was no way he could have arrived there on time to murder the kids.

And then things got really weird. He hadn't told anyone this bit yet- not even Eren. He'd written a report on his findings and included the evidence. Foolishly, he'd left it on his desk overnight. The next day it was gone and all the evidence had been wiped from his computer.

He had wanted so bad to tell someone, anyone, but the only person who could've stolen his report would have to have been someone working with them. He couldn't risk trusting anyone. Not even his friends.

Not even Eren.

"Hey, Armin?"

Armin jerked upright, head bashing against the window painfully. He'd zoned out.

"Uh- yeah, I mean, um- yes, Eren?"

"You zoned out for a bit there. You okay?"

Armin looked over at Eren who was staring at him with concerned eyes. Armin forced himself to smile.

"I'm fine. Are we there yet?"

"Five minutes. He right in the back of town."

"Oh. Okay."

Eren clenched his hands on the steering wheel and looked ahead again with narrowed eyes, apparently not noticing Armin's lack of enthusiasm.

"We're so close now. Any minute could be the moment of truth. Hostage or victim. We are definitely not going to fuck this up!"

"Just saying that won't improve our chances Eren!" Armin reminded sceptically.

Eren punched him playfully on the arm. "Sure it will! If there's a will, there's a way."

Armin sighed. There was no stopping Eren when he got like this. He'd just have to try his best to keep things under control when Eren got too overexcited. There was a wail of sirens behind them and Armin knew the backup had arrived.

"Shouldn't they turn their sirens off?" He hissed angrily. "They'll hear us coming!"

Eren turned the radio on and yelled into it.

"Turn your fucking sirens off you idiots!"

One by one the sirens died. Armin ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Thank you, Eren."

Eren nodded and jerked the steering wheel around a corner. "We should stop here and go the rest of the way on foot. It's just down the road."

"Okay," Armin answered quietly.

"Ready?"

Armin took a deep breath and clicked his seatbelt. His fingers searched for the door handle and paused.

"Ready."

 

***

 

Jean hurtled around the final corner, out of breath, his heart pounding frantically in his chest. Just down here... just down here was the alley and the warehouse where he had spent the last month with Marco, just around here was where Marco would be. Was he okay? Was he still alive? Had they been found? Just another step. _I'm here Marco._

"Shit!"

Jean skidded into the alley and collided with a brunette wearing... a police uniform. He also incidentally had the most heroic hair Jean had ever seen.

The police officer stumbled backwards, surprised, and Jean got a clear view of the row of police cars behind him, along with ten or so officers holding guns.

"Fuck!"

There was a brief moment of tense silence while everyone blinked off their confusion and surprise. No-one had expected the man they had been searching for to run straight into their leading officer. Jean hadn't expected to be in this situation at all.

"Jean Kirstein, you are under arrest on suspicion of aiding the wanted criminal, Marco Bodt. Put your hands where we can see them!"

The speaker was a short, blonde guy who was standing beside the man Jean had run into. His voice was high and soft but he spoke loudly and with a confidence the other officers seemed to lack.

Jean ignored him, scanning the alley for a familiar freckled face. Where was he? Ymir had said Marco was in trouble but he wasn't anywhere near them.

"Hands behind your head!" The brunette yelled, repeating his colleague.

Jean scowled at him and slowly put his hands behind his head. Immediately the short guy with the high voice stepped forward with a pair of handcuffs. He forced Jean's hands behind his back and cuffed them together. Jean turned his head so that his mouth was by the man's ear.

"Where's Marco?" He asked softly.

The man looked at him with a strange expression, like he was trying to figure Jean out.

"Eren," He called out, addressing the brunette from earlier. "I want him to come in our car."

"Are you sure?" Eren asked.

"Yeah."

He took Jean by the shoulder and lead him towards one of the cars, muttering his rights into his ear. Jean didn't listen, his ears were full of white noise. Nothing was making sense. He was vaguely aware of the other police officers driving away. He barely noticed his head being shoved roughly into the backseat of the police car by Eren, as the blonde had called him. He didn't even register his hand being cuffed to the door and the ignition starting up.

He was being arrested and Marco... what was Marco doing?

"Jean Kirstein, right?"

The blonde was twisting around in his seat and had a hand extended towards him.

"Yeah," Jean mumbled, taking the hand with his free one.

"I'm Armin Arlert. This is Eren."

"Yo," said Eren, from the driver's seat.

"Where's Marco?" Jean asked again.

"We were hoping you could tell us. We've lost all trace of him."

Jean shook his head, running a hand through his hair. In the rearview mirror he glimpsed Eren scowling.

"I honestly have no fucking idea."

"Of course you don't," said Eren sarcastically. "After spending the last few weeks with him you'd obviously have no idea where he was hiding."

"What the fuck do you know?" Snapped Jean.

"Eren, please!"

Eren relaxed slightly but Jean could see the red glow on the back of his neck.

"I just don't like cowards, is all."

 _Coward_. That word again. Jean hung his head, knowing that there was nothing he could do to deny that word's relevance to him.

"Jean, if there's one thing I could ask...?" Armin asked.

"If you have to."

"Who were you to Marco?"

He was so polite, so civil. Jean wanted so badly to trust him, wanted so badly to tell the truth, wanted so badly not to betray Marco.

But he couldn't.

"I was his hostage."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnn... Hope you all liked the chapter! Leave a kudos and/or comment. If I'm late for my next chapter it'll probably be because I'm reading Patrick Ness's new book (my fav author in the world). I will try though. Bye!  
> RainbowQueen out  
> ~~~  
> Hello. Just a heads up, I will be pretty busy for the next few months or so, so if you see anything I missed while editing (spelling and grammar errors, awkward sentences, etc...) please tell me in the comments.  
> Thanks for reading :)  
> \- InsaneFictionGeek out


	13. Armin Nearly Swears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly late and not edited I don't think... sorry InsaneFictionGeek. But it's good. I've been at a competition allll day (second one this week goddamn it) so yeah... Enjoy the chapter!  
> RainbowQueen out

The room they had put Jean in was small and bare. Three white washed walls reflected the emptiness Jean himself was feeling. It was depressing and cold. The fourth wall was made entirely of glass and Jean could see people rushing around outside, carrying endless stacks of papers and coffee cups.

He leaned back in his chair and rested his cuffed hands on the table, trying to push his thoughts into order. Ymir had betrayed him, that much was obvious. He scowled and clenched his fists. He'd always known there was something off about her. But then, where had Marco been? And Krista? Surely they weren't in on it too.

He wanted very badly to cry, or to scream, or... something. But he held it in. Hide all emotion, don't show them how weak you are.

The door slid open and Armin walked in, closely followed by Eren. Jean forced his face to stay neutral. Armin smiled at him as he sat down and offered a meek hello which Jean returned with a grunt. Eren only scowled.

"I'm going to need to ask you a few questions Jean. Please answer as accurately as you can."

"Yeah, whatever," Jean muttered.

Armin slipped a thin recording device out of his pocket and set it on the table between them. His finger jabbed the 'record' button. "D.I. Arlert and Sergeant Jaeger interviewing suspect Jean Kirstein. Thirtieth of August, ten p.m."

Jean watched Armin brush the hair out of his eyes warily as he looked up to address Jean. "When did you first meet Marco Bodt?"

"The day you trashed my house. Thanks for that, by the way. Really great."

Eren looked like he was about to say something but Armin shushed him with a gesture. Interviews were clearly his thing and his alone. It wasn't hard to guess why.

"And have you communicated with him, through him or indirectly with him before that?"

"Nope," Jean lied.

"We found his fingerprints all through your house. Specifically on the game consul. He would have to have been in your house before that day to have got them there, am I right?"

"He must've broken in while I was at school."

Armin gave him an odd look but carried on regardless. "What was your relationship with Marco Bodt?"

_I don't even fucking know._

"Hostage."

"Did he treat you well?"

"Yeah."

Jean could feel his answers getting shorter and shorter. The less detail, the better, right?

"Was there anyone else with you?"

"No."

He wasn't so angry as to sell Ymir out like that yet.

"And why were you not in hiding when we found you?"

Shit.

"I... escaped?" The answer came out as a question.

"And why did you come back?"

Armin was smiling slightly, he knew he'd got him. Jean searched his mind frantically for a way out. There was one.

"He came after me. Um... I came back because... it was the last place... he would think to look?"

Jean ended his excuse in a high pitched squeak and winced. Eren's face was a strange hybrid between a glare and a smirk. Jean scowled at him. Armin sighed and reached across the table to turn the recording device off. Jean relaxed slightly in his chair, letting out a slow hiss of breath.

"And now, I'd like you to tell me the truth."

Jean coughed and looked up wildly.

"Excuse me?"

"Armin, what are you doing?" Whispered Eren.

Armin shushed them both with a wave of his hand. "There will be no recording and I will not use this information to testify against you or anyone in court when it comes to that. I will be speaking to you as Armin, not DI Arlert, you have my word. It would be like this conversation had never existed."

Jean gaped for a moment, mouth hanging open. How had Armin known?

"Why?" He managed to choke out. "If you're going to keep it a secret, what's the point?"

Armin shrugged. "I'm curious."

"And him?" Jean glared at Eren who flipped him off gracelessly.

"I'd like him to be here. You'll see why soon."

Jean huffed and folded his arms, feeling ridiculously like a stubborn eight year old.

"Fine."

Armin smiled brightly and leant forwards, a new gleam in his eyes.

"Tell me everything." 

Jean did, if a bit reluctantly. He knew Armin would stick to his word, even if it took him to the grave. The more he talked, the more excited Armin would get and the more disbelieving Eren's face would become. He told them about Ymir and Krista and how Marco had made him pancakes. He told them about running from his house and Marco being stabbed and Ymir not getting her refugee status. Now that the recorder was off, he no longer felt guilty about telling her secrets.

Armin's expression changed with every word and it was fascinating to watch. One moment doubtful, the other comprehending, but always eager. Jean tore his eyes away for a moment and saw that Eren was staring at Arlert just as intently as he had been, if not more. Eren caught his eye and blushed, jerking his head as if to tell Jean to keep talking. Jean complied, turning his gaze back onto Armin.

"-I was being a jackass, we had a fight, I left and then I ran into you guys. So... yeah. You know the rest."

Armin gripped Eren's arm excitedly and practically bounced in his seat. "It all fits! This is brilliant! I knew Marco was innocent, I just knew it!"

"Wait-" Interrupted Jean irritably. "You knew? All this time and you _knew_?"

"Yeah, what the hell Armin?" Said Eren.

Armin leaned forwards again, lowering his voice conspiratorially so that Eren and Jean had to bend forwards too just to hear him.

"There's a snitch in our department. Some files from my desk were stolen and evidence deleted from my computer. I did a lot of investigating into Marco Bodt and it looked like someone from our side had framed him."

"How do you know it's not me?" Eren asked, a little too loudly.

"Because you want to bring justice to the world and make humanity a better place and all that rubbish."

"Hey!"

"My point is that you'd never frame someone. You'd die before you did that."

"How can you be so sure?" Jean asked.

"First hand experience," Armin muttered, giving Eren a reproachful glance. "I swear Eren has a death wish as big as Denmark."

"That was once!"

"Three times actually."

"Moving on!" Jean interrupted, clicking his fingers under their noses. "Who do you think the snitch is, Armin?"

Armin bit his lip and frowned for a moment.

"My guess would be-"

"Levi!" Yelled Eren. "It has to be Levi. That guy is an ass."

"Levi?" Jean prompted.

"Head of department," Armin muttered. "It makes sense... he'd have access to all the evidence."

"So just don't tell him this stuff then," Jean said.

There was a knock on the door and a blonde woman poked her head in, her pointed face was sour as a lemon.

"The Kirstein kid is free to go. His friends are here to pick him up."

Jean nearly had a heart attack. Which friends? What would he say to them? The woman disappeared again and Armin reached forwards to unlock his handcuffs, talking quickly.

"If you see him again, tell me, I'll do everything I can to clear him in court. Make sure you keep in touch with me or Eren and maybe get a lawyer so you can testify and have a good case, I can recommend Erwin Smith. If you need to find us we live on the far end of Cable Street, on the first floor of the block of flats there. Come find us if you need help."

He practically pushed Jean out of the room and down the corridor, whispering more instructions into his ear that Jean barely heard. Eren followed closely behind, looking confused. They barged through a door and into what appeared to be the waiting room.

There were two men standing at the front desk, both towering over an old, bald man who was carefully collecting a mountain of paperwork from their outstretched hands. Jean recognised them in a heartbeat.

"Hey, dorks! Long time no see!"

Bertholdt and Reiner spun around, grinning, dropping the last of the paperwork at the bald man's feet.

"How long has it been Jean?" Yelled Reiner. "A month? And that's how you greet us?"

"Hey, it wasn't my fault okay?"

"Dude," Reiner said bluntly.

He raised an eyebrow at Jean and he sneered back, Bertholdt just grinned nervously and wiped his palms on his jeans. Their staring contest ended when Reiner suddenly burst out laughing and wrapped him up in a one armed hug. A hand found it's way to his hair and ruffled it aggressively.

"Oh god- Reiner, get off! my hair-"

"Looks like shit."

"Fuck you," Jean said, trying to flip him off.

"He's right, you know," said the bald paperwork guy.

"Not helpful."

Reiner finally released Jean from his evil clutches and slapped him on the back. "Just messing with you, yeah?"

Jean felt a hand tap my shoulder and he spun around, only to be met head on by Eren fucking Jaeger. Eren glared at him and jerked a thumb at the door. "You can go now. So go."

"Yeah okay," Jean said, restraining himself from verbally abusing the policeman. "Bye Armin."

Armin waved at him and Jean raised a hand back, turning to leave with his friends. Eren frowned and looked at the floor, apparently contemplating something. Jean ignored him.

 

***

"Armin! Arminnnn!"

Eren's worried voice penetrated the thoughtful silence. He tugged on Armin's sleeve again as the latter watched Jean vanish down the road.

"Hm- uh, yeah?"

"Jean just left."

"Yes, Eren. I know."

"Jean just left and he's supposed to be in custody."

"Oops," Armin muttered absently. He wasn't worried though. Jean seemed honest enough to come back when called.

"Armin are you listening? There's a snitch in our department and Jean's just left when he's supposed to be in custody."

"So...?" Armin still wasn't paying much attention.

"So," Said Eren impatiently, "Who were Jean's friends and how did they know to come when we have Jean's phone and no one was contacted?"

That caught Armin's attention.

"What are you saying, Eren?"

"I'm saying, what if there were two murderers, and neither were Marco Bodt?"

...

"Oh shi-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for reading guys! Leave a comment and/or kudos, criticism welcomed with open and slightly desperate arms. Enjoy your week!   
> Update: We won our competition! Whoo! We're going to nationals! Which means... less time for writing. But still, it's good!  
> RainowQueen out


	14. Everything Goes to Shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha! Literally just finished this chapter with the help of the amazing InsaneFicionGeek, as always. This was probably the most fun chpater to write (though it'll probs be the most painful to read, sorry guys). Hope you enjoy...  
> RainbowQueen out  
> ~~~  
> I'm sorry.  
> \- InsaneFictionGeek out

Mikasa was torn. She had watched as Annie had attempted to stop the police from catching Jean and been witness to Annie forging documents to let him loose again. She had been about to tell someone- probably, but then Annie had seen Mikasa and before she knew what was going on, the short woman was snaking her arms around Mikasa's waist and standing up on tiptoes to whisper into her ear _'You won't tell anyone, will you?'_

And that was that. Mikasa kept her silence. She didn't know what Annie was doing... but surely if Annie was doing it, it couldn't be _too_ bad, right?

She had seen Eren's accusing glares when she had stood up for Annie, and Armin's puzzled expression. It hurt so much to lie to them, but that was all she felt capable of doing. She was a moth, drawn in by the bright light which was only going to burn her when she got too close. But still she kept on coming.

Mikasa sat down at Annie's desk (Annie had gone to the bathroom) and rested her head gently against the desktop. She breathed in the smell of coffee and lavender that followed Annie wherever she went and closed her eyes, sighing.

On the desk beside her, something buzzed. Mikasa's eyes snapped open. Annie had left her phone behind underneath a pile of paperwork, a true rarity. Mikasa had never seen Annie without her phone on her before, despite Annie never replying to her texts.

She hesitated, trying to keep back her itching fingers, but old urges overtook her and glancing briefly around to ensure that she was alone, she snatched up the phone. Mikasa put in the code she had seen Annie enter few times before and it unlocked, opening straight onto her recent texts.

There was a new one under an anonymous contactor. She clicked it and scrolled through the messages aimlessly until abruptly, something caught her eye which made her stomach lurch.

_> you should kill them_

Mikasa gasped, her eyes widening as she read on.

< _Not yet_

> _bring them here then_

< _Fuck off R Jesus Christ_

And two days later;

> _u dealt with them yet?_

_< Give me time fuck_

_> we dont have time_

_< I think I'm getting somewhere with the girl_

_> the one b drugged?_

_< I don't think she remembers it_

_> k_

And the next day;

_< The smart kid's working things out_

_> i thought i said to kill them_

_< Fuck it_

_> is this because of that girl?_

Annie's replies stopped there for a few days and Mikasa scrolled hurriedly through the repeated swears and question marks sent by 'R'. Her time was running out.

_< Jean kirstein sighted. You got anything to do with this?_

_> fuck bitch must've called the police_

_< Context please_

_> doesnt matter. do anything you can to stop them_

_< Too late_

_> fuckfuckfuck_

_< Calm down. You’re his friends right? Come round in a few hours, I'll let him out on bail_

_> u can actually do that?_

_< With Mikasa on my side..._

_> The girl?_

Mikasa felt her heartbeat quicken and she bit her lip, drawing blood. What had she done?

_< Yeah_

_> I dont like it. It's risky_

_< So what’s your grand plan genius_

_>..._

_> fine. but u have to bring them here after, if ur 2 chicken 2 kill them_

_< Ok_

And finally the most recent one;

_> Do it now_

 

The phone slipped from Mikasa's hand and hit the floor, leaving a crack in the screen. Armin and Eren were still in the building. And Annie was going to kill them.

Mikasa hastily stood up, knocking the chair back and sprinted from the room. She had to find them before Annie did. How had she let the situation come to this? She flung open door after door but everything lead to rooms devoid of familiar faces.

_Where are they where are they where are they?_

The words hammered through her head with every footstep, every wrong door. What if Annie had taken them already, or worse, killed them? It was impossible. Unthinkable. But where were they?

She descended into the waiting area and nearly cried out in relief. They were standing in a corner and conversing in whispers. Armin had his phone out. Mikasa hurtled down the last step, skidded on the tiled floor and collided painfully with Eren's chest.

"Mikasa? What's going on?"

Mikasa gasped, trying to form words through her panic.

"Annie... she-"

"Mikasa, breathe!" Commanded Armin, patting her arm gently. Couldn't they see the danger they were in?

"No time! She'll... kill... she's gonna-"

Mikasa tried to grab both of them and keep running out of the building but Eren held her back, confusion evident on his face.

"Mikasa, wh-"

" _Stop_ where you are."

Mikasa felt a weird lurch in her stomach, partway between lust and complete, utter, fear. She knew that voice. Oh god, did she know it. Annie had caught up to them.

Mikasa forced herself to exhale slowly before turning. Annie was standing in the doorway, one hand tucked nonchalantly into her pocket. She raised her eyebrows at Mikasa who felt sick.

"Annie, what's going on?" Asked Armin. His voice was high and laced with uncertainty.

"You're all going to come with me."

"What the hell, Annie?" Said Eren.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" Nothing about Annie changed, at least nothing visible, but Mikasa felt something happen as Annie said those words. Maybe the temperature dropped, maybe the room became darker, maybe Annie seemed bigger than her actual 5 foot height. Either way, suddenly it seemed like a very bad idea to cross her.

Annie looked over them all, frowning slightly.

"Where's Levi?"

"He went out," Armin squeaked.

Mikasa saw Eren grip Armin's hand out of the corner of her eye. Why wasn't Annie taking her hand? Why was she treating her like this instead? Brutal and unfeeling... Just like Mikasa herself. But this... what she was feeling now wasn't unfeeling at all.

Annie sighed dramatically and pulled a notepad and a pen from her pocket. Armin flinched.

"I'll leave him a note. He'll come in his own time."

She scribbled something down and then marched over to the main desk- which was deserted- slamming it down with more force than necessary. Neither Mikasa nor the others to tried to make a break for the door. They'd be like mice running from a lion.

"Where are we going?" Eren asked.

"To a friend's."

"Jean's friends. Bertl and Reiner," Armin said, the question in his voice just audible.

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"Why?" Demanded Mikasa.

"You're a liability. My... friends... don't think it wise that your existence continues."

Mikasa noticed that all through Annie's short spiel, she didn't look at Mikasa once. She hadn't looked at her at all.

"You mean they'll kill us?"

"Dunno. Don't care." That was what did it. Mikasa opened her mouth, unable to hold back any longer.

"I thought-"

Annie turned on Mikasa, her face dark. Mikasa felt as though she was trapped under a storm cloud, and lightning was about to strike.

"You thought what?"

There was pain and confusion filling up in Mikasa's stomach like water from a busted drain. It hurt. It hurt so bad. Mikasa forced herself to answer the question. Maybe this was some kind of joke.

"I thought you loved me," She whispered.

Eren and Armin were looking at them, confusion and fear evident on their faces.

"You're even stupider than I thought."

Annie leaned forwards until their mouths were all but touching and Mikasa could feel Annie's breath on her face and her nose brushing her cheek, oh and how badly Mikasa wanted to kiss her but Annie's eyes were narrowed and deadly and her lips were whispering the words Mikasa least wanted to hear.

"I was lying."

Annie kicked her legs and Mikasa crumpled. Pain shot up her ankle as she landed funny and she tried to roll away but Annie was pulling her to her knees by her hair. A fist smashed into her stomach and she cried out, sagging forwards. It came again, and again. The pain was too much to bear- and not just the pain from Annie's iron fists.

"MIKASA!"

Eren was trying to run over and help, but Armin was holding him back, white faced and terrified.

"Let me go Armin!"

"Eren-"

WHAM

Mikasa coughed and blood spattered the floor.

"GET OFF HER YOU BITCH!"

"Eren, she has a gun!"

Annie kicked Mikasa in the side and she was thrown to the floor.

"Fight, Mikasa!"

But she couldn't. Mikasa couldn't fight against Annie.

"FIGHT BACK, DAMMIT!

And then everything happened at once.

Eren broke free of Armin and charged at Annie blindly, Annie spun on her heel to face him and Mikasa finally heard Eren's words and stood up. There was a blur of fists, blood, pain. Mikasa took Annie from the side, Eren from the front. Armin screamed at them and tried to pull them apart. Mikasa didn't know who landed the punch on him. Fingernails scratched her arms and every movement was agony.

Then there was a blow on her head and she was back on the floor and someone was yelling and everything was lurching unsteadily and there was a pounding in her head and something cold being pressed against her ear and she didn't know wha-

"EVERYONE STOP!"

Annie's shout left a ringing in her ears which echoed through the silence that came with it. Mikasa forced her eyes to focus. Eren was swaying unsteadily, a few feet away. One of his fists was raised but it didn't move. Armin swam in and out of focus behind him. And Annie. Annie was crouching over her. And there was a gun against her head.

"No one moves or I kill her," Annie hissed. "Now are you coming or not?"

 

***

 

It didn't occur to Jean until they were actually there that he had never actually been to Bertholdt and Reiner's house before. Between him, Connie and Sasha it had been seen almost as a holy land, a sacred place that none of them could set foot on. After the truth had come out about Bertl's brother (long after his death) they'd just accepted that Bertl needed the space and moved on.

And now here he was, in the back of Reiner's car, breaking the unspoken rule. The whole thing felt so... wrong. Even compared to living with a murder suspect for a month. Jean felt himself beginning to squirm.

"Uh, hey, um-"

Bertl and Reiner turned to look at him, hands resting on their door handles.

"This is great and all but my parents get back any day now and my house is sort of trashed," Jean paused for a brief moment. "Couldn't we just go back to my place? I sorta want to go home."

Jean blushed slightly. Well- it was mostly true.

"Jean, man, you look like you're about to pass out," Reiner told him. "When was the last time you ate decently? Or slept? You can stay here the night while we look after you."

"I guess..."

Jean yawned widely and ran a hand through his hair. He had to admit, Reiner did have a point. He clambered out of the car and stretched, back clicking. Reiner clamped a hand down on his shoulder and steered him towards his house, calling to Bertl over his shoulder.

"Bertl, can you deal with trash in the trunk?"

"The trash? Oh you mean Hist-"

"The trash," Reiner said firmly.

"Right. Yes."

Reiner dug into his pockets and pulled out a set of keys, fitting one into the front door.

"Welcome," he said, "to our humble abode."

Humble was definitely an overstatement. The house was cramped and poorly lit. The wallpaper was peeling away from the walls and ceiling and was badly torn in places and there was a weird smell (one that Jean was entirely too familiar with, being the hormonal teenager he is) coming from the room they were heading into. Jean was afraid to find out if it was really what he thought it was, he was just thankful they kept it clean... ish.

"This way," Reiner said, pushing him inside.

Jean tried not to look around as Reiner led him through the house, instead keeping his eyes glued to the floor. This was all so wrong. Reiner opened the door to a room and stepped to the side, allowing him to walk in.

"You can rest here for a bit. I'll make tea."

Jean grimaced at the thought as he walked inside. Last time he'd tried Reiner's tea it had tasted like piss and had beer substituted for milk. Reiner shut the door behind him and Jean finally let himself look around him. The room was bare with nothing but a bed on one side. There were no windows. Jean shivered and sat down. Then he stood up again. He couldn't rest here. He'd just have to beg Reiner to let him go home again, clear up his life until there were no traces of Marco left.

He crossed the room and tugged at the door handle. It didn't budge. He was locked in.

"Uh, Reiner?" He yelled.

He heard footsteps thudding down the hallway and then a pause.

"Yeah?"

"The door's locked dude!" Jean yelled.

"Chill. It's supposed to be."

Jean could feel himself freezing up. He couldn't have just landed himself in more shit. Not even more.

"Huh?"

"Sorry Jean, but we need Marco Bodt. It's nothing personal."

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last things happen hurrah! Reiner and Bertl showing their true colours at last? Annie betraying Mikasa who was convinced they were in love? Sorry guys, It's so fun to write. I'll make it up to y'all in later chapters. For now...  
> RainbowQueen out  
> ~~~  
> Here's some advice: never try to edit writing on a smartphone  
> \- InsaneFictionGeek out


	15. Jean Has Poor Choice in Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Thanks so much for reading this far, guys :) Here's abother chapter for ya. Consider it to be the calm before the storm. (I sorta stopped trying in the middle, I'm sorry.)  
> RainbowQueen out  
> ~~~  
> Once again, I am sorry.  
> \- InsaneFictionGeek out

Levi sipped thoughtfully on his coffee. It was black and bitter and burnt his tongue- not that he minded. He blew over the surface of his cup gently and took another sip. There was a soft tinkle as the cafe door opened and a gust of wind ruffled up his hair. He didn't turn.

A shadow fell over his table, tall and looming, then it shifted. There was a hollow grinding as a chair was pulled out from under the table. Erwin Smith sat down opposite him- a handsome man, with neat blonde hair and thick eyebrows. Levi glanced up at him over his coffee before looking down again. They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I was in the middle of something important," Levi said at last, putting down his cup. "Jaeger and Arlert managed to arrest Jean Kirstein."

Erwin's eyebrows lifted slightly but he showed no other signs of shock. If anyone's poker face was better than Levi's, it was Erwin's. He nodded but didn't go running from the cafe to question Jean like Levi had half expected he would. Instead he reached into his bag and pulled out a clearfile folder, slamming it down on the table.

"I think you'll find this is more urgent."

It was as if the whole cafe was empty but for them. Levi frowned up at Erwin's earnest eyes and then slowly, apprehensively, looked down at the folder.

"They should never have taken you out of the police force," Levi stated at last.

There was a stiff silence and then Erwin threw back his head and laughed. Levi watched him, stony faced.

"What use was I going to be with this injury?" Erwin asked, gesturing to his left sleeve which had been sewn up at the shoulder where an arm should be attached. "It's better this way. Besides, it saved my life in the long run."

Levi scowled at him but didn't comment. Erwin had been pulled out of the police a week before the suicide bomber incident, so technically, he was right. It still hurt though. Hurt that Erwin could bring up the incident so easily...

"I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me," Erwin murmured.

"S'ok."

"I prefer being a lawyer anyway," Erwin said.

"And doing illegal undercover work."

Erwin pressed a finger to his lips and Levi glanced around quickly. No-one had been listening. Erwin removed his finger and dropped his voice.

"This illegal work is getting far more work done than I could ever have done in the police force, as you can see right here in this folder."

"No limits, huh?" Levi said quietly. "You'd do anything to deliver justice, wouldn't you? Even if that means becoming the bad guy."

Erwin nodded seriously and leant forward, pushing his remaining hand down on the table. To business then.

"So what's your news?" Levi asked.

"Your theory was right. Bodt is almost certainly innocent."

Levi sagged in relief, allowing his usually perfect composure to drop a little. So much had been resting on that small slither of information.

"I only hope Arlert works that out before he questions the Kirstein brat. Asking the wrong things could be risky," Levi muttered.

"I'm sure he worked it out long before you did, Levi," Erwin assured him.

"Bastard."

Erwin smiled warmly, something he only did in front of Levi.

"You know I'm right."

Levi sighed.

"Yeah."

Erwin leant back in his chair again, arm hanging limply by his side. Levi leaned back too, resting a foot on his knee. They regarded each other in silence.

"Do we know the murderers?"

Erwin nodded solemnly. "I've got the DNA testings back and briefly put trackers on the suspect. It's definitely who I think it is."

"Quit talking in riddles. Who the fuck are you talking about?"

"It's all in the folder. Evidence, DNA, everything. Their names are Bertholdt Hoover and Reiner Braun. They were friends of Jean Kirstein, I believe your department questioned them a few weeks back"

Levi fought hard to keep his face emotionless against the adrenaline pumping through his blood. He had to get back to the station to get a warrant. Waiting around having a nice chat with Erwin seemed like the most pointless thing he could be doing at that moment.

"Now our only concern is the snitch in your department."

Levi froze, halfway from his seat.

"Snitch?"

Erwin nodded, his face open and worried.

"Who is it?" Levi asked, dreading the answer.

"I... I don't know yet. They've covered their tracks too good. Most probably someone in your department though, unless they were a really good hacker. The computer systems aren't as foolproof as we'd like them to be."

"I bet it's Jaeger. Brat's always trying to disrupt the case."

Erwin gave a lopsided shrug which only infuriated him further. Levi stood up, fuming. He pulled his coat on and left a handful of change on the table. He was going to kill Jaeger.

"Levi!"

Levi turned back to Erwin, who was still sitting at the table, looking almost in pain.

"Just..." Erwin said softly, "just be careful, okay?"

Levi stood frozen in place for a moment. His heart was beating hard in his chest and he felt he had to do something but he just wasn't sure what. No, that wasn't right. He knew exactly what he wanted to do. But was he really ready to move on just yet?

_Sorry Petra._

Levi stepped forward, grabbed Erwin by the collar and brought their lips together with almost painful force. Levi didn't care that everyone in the cafe was watching. This was probably an extremely bad idea.

This kiss was short and to the point. Levi pulled away first, dropping Erwin back into his chair. Erwin looked a little shell-shocked.

"If I was going to be careful I wouldn't have done that. Don't tell me how to live my life."

Then Levi ran from the cafe to do shit.

 

***

 

Bait. They were going to use him as bait. Jean yelled in frustration and threw himself at the door, only succeeding in giving himself a bruise. He had to get out of here. He had to escape and warn Marco or he would, Marco would... He didn't even want to think about it. He charged at the door again, putting all his weight behind his shoulder. It barely even shook.

Reiner's voice came from the other side of the door, slightly muffled.

"Jean, stop. You're going to do yourself an injury."

"Like you care!" Jean spat. This was all his fault. Hadn't he told himself not to get attached? Hadn't he known that he'd only get hurt? And now they were using him as bait to get at Marco, the only goddamn person in the world at that moment who Jean actually cared about.

He threw himself at the door, again and again. Bashing it with his hands, his shoulders, his feet. Each hit was punctuated with an angry scream. Blood started oozing out of the grazes on his knuckles as he punched the door and he reverted to his feet again, kicking it with all his strength.

"Jean, if you don't stop- _I'll_ give you an injury."

"BERTHOLDT!" Jean screamed. "BERTHOLDT, HELP! REINER'S GONE INSANE!"

"Bertl's gone."

Jean paused, panting heavily.

"Gone?"

"He left a few minutes ago to deal with those police officers."

Jean felt his stomach drop. So Bertl had gone crazy too. Reiner was talking about Armin- and Eren, of course (Jean didn't really care what happened to that shit-head). Was Bertl going to kill them?

"Why?" Jean croaked. "Why are you targeting the police? Why do you care so much about Marco? This has nothing to do with you."

On the other side of the door, Reiner paused.

"The police got to close to the truth," he said slowly.

"What truth?"

"Do you remember the night of the murder?"

Jean wanted to break something- preferably Reiner. How could he remember that? That was months ago. Reiner had to be high or something to think he-

Wait a second.

Jean did remember. What had the day been? A Monday. Mondays were always a bad sign. It had rained that day and Jean had got soaked on the way to school. He remembered Bertl and Reiner getting to class late, as usual, and then Reiner's phone had rung. And it kept ringing throughout the whole day until finally at lunch Bertl had complained of a migraine and he and Reiner had gone home early. Later that night Jean received news of the murder. It hadn't meant much to him then, just a passing threat. He'd been just about to go to bed when Reiner and Bertl had barged inside, looking ready to pass out. And they'd been covered in blood. At that time Jean had passed it of as a bad nose bleed. Now...

Holy shit.

"It was you."

There was silence on the other side of the door. Jean took a step back, horrified.

"The person ringing you the whole day- that was Armin's snitch, the police officer who's been covering for you. They framed Marco. You murdered those kids!"

More silence.

"Answer me, dammit!" Jean yelled, punching the door again.

Reiner didn't oblige. Jean felt anger and a terrible, terrible emptiness building up inside him. The world had completely gone to shit. There was a high, hysterical laugh building up inside his throat.

"Your plan's fallen through, Reiner!" He shouted. "Marco and I had a fight, there's no way he's coming! You'd have to be fucking stupid to ever hand yourself over to you just because I'm here! You hear that Reiner? You lose! Marco will walk free- you'll see! He's not coming!"

There was a crash from somewhere inside the house and a shout from Reiner. And then Jean heard a voice which was way, way too familiar. The voice of an angelic bastard.

"I surrender! Please, let Jean go! I'll do anything!"

A moment later the door Jean had so desperately been trying to break down opened and there he was, Marco Bodt. The freckled bastard was pushed in roughly. Jean was pretty certain he caught Reiner smirking at him before the door slammed shut again.

Jean let his head drop into his hands.

"You. Fucking. Idiot."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, ok... I hadn't originally intended to put eruri in there, sorry. But... Those two are perfect for each other okay? I couldn't help myself! Anyway, leave a comment and/or kudos! Much appreciated!  
> RainbowQueen out  
> ~~~  
> I apologize  
> \- InsaneFictionGeek out


	16. It's Happening Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry for the slightly late update! Holdiys are FINALLY here (thank god) so I'm planning to get ahead. Hopefully I'll get this finished by November. Hope you enjoy the chapter as much as I did :)  
> RainbowQueen out

Jean looked at Marco despairingly. He had never thought anyone could be stupider than Connie... until he met Eren... Then he was certain that there was no-one as dumb as that fucker. _Well done Marco,_ Jean thought bitterly. _You have achieved the impossible._

Marco glanced sideways at Jean and blushed slightly, scratching the back of his neck.

"That didn't go exactly as I'd planned..."

"No kidding, dumbass. What- did you really think they'd just let me go and everything would go back to normal?"

"Well," sighed Marco, "yeah, I guess..."

They stood facing each other awkwardly, their eyes playing tag as they both tried to look at the other and avoid making eye contact simultaneously. Jean twisted his fingers nervously deep inside his pockets. Marco shifted from foot to foot. Jean hurt everywhere from the bruises he'd gained fruitlessly trying to break the damn door.

"Hey, um," Jean mumbled. Marco looked up expectantly. "I'm sorry about shouting earlier. I didn't mean the things I said. None of this is your fault really."

Marco smiled, shrugging slightly.

"What you said was right though. I'm sorry too. I wish you hadn't left though..."

Jean had the decency to be ashamed. Looking back, he had acted childishly. He removed a hand from his pocket and curled it into a fist, but instead of punching Marco like he'd wanted to just hours before, he held it out in front of him. Marco looked at it, confused.

"Give me your fist," Jean said.

"What, why?"

"Just do it, bastard."

Marco held out his fist. Their knuckles bumped gently. Marco was still looking down at his hand, as if unsure of why it was there. Jean sighed.

"Yeah, we're going to need to work on that."

He grabbed Marco's wrist and dragged him over to the bed, sitting him down forcibly.

"Now tell me everything. What happened after I left?"

"Um... Krista freaked out and then I went after you. I couldn't find you though."

"No fucking way!" Said Jean sarcastically.

Marco frowned at him but carried on regardless.

"Then Ymir called me."

Jean felt his heartbeat quicken. _No way, she called Marco too?_

"She said that you'd been caught and gave me this address... she told me you were in serious danger."

"Dumbass! It's you that's in danger!" Jean yelled.

But that was... interesting. Ymir must have betrayed them if she'd called Marco too. But why then had she betrayed Jean to the police, and then told Marco he was here? How had she known and why not just give Jean to Bertl and Reiner in the first place? None of it made sense. Why was Ymir so fucking cryptic?

"So what happened to you?" Marco asked.

Jean paused before sitting down beside Marco on the bed. He opened his mouth, then closed it. There was no way that he could tell Marco about how he'd run to save him, especially after he'd mocked Marco for doing the same thing.

"I came back-"

"Why?" Marco asked immediately.

"Uh, n-no reason! But the police had found out about our hideout. They were waiting for us. I ran into the sergeant, this fucking kid called Eren Jaeger. He was an absolute prick. Kept going on about humanity and justice and shit. He was only a few years older than us! Can you believe that?"

"Uh, Jean," Marco interrupted. "Calm down."

"Right, yeah," Jean muttered. "Anyway, I ran into Jaeger and this other guy called Armin. He was nice. They took me into custody and I was questioned for agesss."

Marco had gone pale. Jean noticed his hands clench tightly and he quickly sought to reassure him.

"It's okay- I told them I was a hostage at first, but after the interview Armin and Eren talked to me in private. It turns out Armin guessed the truth! I convinced him that you were innocent and he's going to do everything within his power to clear you."

"Jean, that's not going to mean much anymore," Said Marco patiently. "These guys are probably going to kill us- whoever they are."

"I don't think so," Jean said, though who he was trying to convince he wasn't sure. "They're Bertl and Reiner, my ex-friends. They bailed me out and took me here. Pity they're fucking psychotic otherwise things might've gone quite well."

Marco's jaw dropped. For a few seconds, he was completely speechless.

"These are your friends? Those ones you were always talking about?"

"Were my friends," Jean corrected darkly.

"So the one I met was...?"

"Reiner. Bertl's apparently dealing with the police, whatever that's supposed to mean."

"But," Marco waved his hands as if trying to convey his message to Jean through vague hand gestures, "What have they got to do with all this?"

"No clue."

"I'm worried."

"Same."

Jean twisted around to face Marco who was biting the inside of his cheek thoughtfully.

"We need to find a way to save the police. They're only doing their job, we can't let them get hurt because of us."

Marco laughed softly though Jean could see little mirth in it.

"You know that if we try do that, you're going to have to be a hero, Jean. No more hiding," He said.

"No way. Eren's the hero, not me."

Marco smiled apologetically at Jean and shook his head.

"Why would you say that?" He asked innocently.

Jean waved his hands in a vaguely desperate gesture. "Because he's selfless and determined and has a deathwish as high as Armin is smart! All the characteristics of a hero. And me? I'm just a coward."

Marco reached across the gap between them and found Jean's hand. He gripped it reassuringly and looked over at Jean with his doleful, puppydog eyes.

"Jean, please don't be offended when I say this but- you're weak."

Jean snorted at that, tearing his hand out of Marco's again.

"How can I not be offended at that?" He demanded.

"Which means you know what it's like to be afraid," continued Marco, unperturbed, "And you know what it's like to be helpless which makes you brave. You might not have the hero complex Jean, but-" Marco turned to fully face Jean and took his hand again. "I would follow you anywhere. You're _my_ hero."

"You are so full of bullshit." Laughed Jean.

Then the full implications of what Marco had just said hit him. The laughter died on his lips. Was it possible...?

Everything had vanished, everything but Marco. That freckled angel. Jean knew it was now or never, now while there was no-one to hear them, to interrupt. He summoned up courage from who knew where and opened his mouth to speak.

"Marco, I-"

But Marco raised a finger up to Jeans lips, shushing him. He leant forward slightly, grinning shyly.

"Me too."

Jean closed his eyes. His heart was beating out a frantic drum roll in his chest, from excitement or fear he was not sure. Hope and uncertainty battled ferociously inside him. Could this really be it? He opened his eyes and spoke again, fast and rambling.

"Marco, are you sure we're talking about the same thi-"

He was cut of by Marco’s lips. His whole body was in his heart and mouth. A hand reached up to the back of Marco's neck and drew him in. Marco leant forwards happily, his hands on Jean's waist. Everything was Marco, his smell, his taste.

They pulled apart at last, both grinning like idiots.

"Well I certainly hope we were talking about the same thing otherwise that would've been very awkward." Marco laughed.

"I think we were," breathed Jean. "You know, I've been meaning to do that for a long time."

"Tell me about it."

Jean was about to lean in again when they heard footsteps outside the door. They froze, hearts racing. The footsteps stopped abruptly.

" _They're back,_ " Whispered Marco.

Jean nodded, scowling. In his joy of kissing Marco, he had forgotten all the other shit going on. He briefly scanned the room for a weapon, anything. It was bare. The lock clicked loudly. Marco slowly stood up as the door opened.

The person standing there was neither Reiner nor Bert. Instead, it was Ymir standing in the doorway with a guilty look on her face.

"Ymir," gasped Marco. "What-"

Jean cut angrily across him.

"You bitch! You sold me out to the police!"

Marco stopped, stunned, and turned to Jean.

"You didn't tell me this!"

"Yeah, I did," said Ymir. She took a small step into the room. "I was actually intending to sell you guys out to Reiner and Bertl in the first place but I changed my mind. But hey- I'm here to rescue you now so it's good, right?"

Jean and Marco both gaped at her. Ymir tried a smile but that failed dismally. Jean noticed that her hands were trembling. Something was wrong.

"I don't understand," said Marco at last. "Why would you sell us out?"

Something came over Ymir then. Her face hardened and went still and her hands clenched at her sides. And Jean felt it was as if she was crumbling inside, shattering into dust, but desperately trying to hide it as if she could pretend it was fine and somehow, it all would be. It wasn't. When Ymir spoke her voice was small and cracked and Jean knew, he just knew that somehow, she had been broken.

"They took Krista. They took my Krista and when the police got you, they killed her."

 

***

Something was wrong, Levi knew it as soon as he entered the building. Everything was quiet. He took the stairs up to his office, climbing up slowly, quietly, as if one misplaced footstep would start the apocalypse. His office was exactly as he'd left it, neat and tidy. Everything in alphabetical order, not a single spec of dust on the table tops.

He slipped the folder from his coat and dropped it on the table in front of him. He glanced around before cautiously emptying the contents onto his desk. Levi picked up the first sheet of paper and read through it carefully. It was an arrest warrant.

_Oh Erwin, you beautiful creature._

Levi placed the warrant to one side, smiling slightly. He flicked through the remaining pages and nodded with satisfaction. Erwin was right. It was all there. Braun and Hoover were in deep shit.

He folded everything up and stuffed it into a large, white envelope. Now he just needed to find Armin. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed Armin's consul before he could proceed.

He walked back down stairs and into the main entrance. He was just about to leave when something caught his eye. The main desk, which was usually occupied by some shitty coffee-loving brat was empty. He paused, hand resting on the door handle. Something was wrong here.

He changed course and headed towards the desk instead. On it was a note, scrawled in horribly familiar handwriting.

_If you want to see your precious colleagues alive, come out and play. Same place as last time. Bring the evidence.  
-A_

The note slipped from his hands and fluttered to the floor.

Levi couldn't think. He couldn't breathe.

It had been Annie?

_Same place as last time._

It was happening again. It was going to happen all over again.

Levi clutched at his coat pocket, feeling the reassuring bulge of the white envelope. It was no longer so reassuring.

He couldn't sabotage the case. They were murderers, they would only kill again. He could be saving lives, getting revenge. He had to stop them once and for all!

But-

But Armin and Mikasa and Eren. Those three kids. He had always considered his squad to be like a second family. And despite everything, despite cutting them off and acting coldly and probably pushing them harder than they were ready for, he really did... care about them. He couldn't let his family die again.

Fuck the case. Levi wasn't going to let anyone lay a single finger on his squad.

He tore up the note and ran from the office at a sprint towards the building where he had failed to save his friends years ago.

The building where he'd failed to save Petra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! This 'not ending on a cliff hanger' thing is really not going well... sorry guys. But hey- Ymir is back! Yay! Hope you guys liked that chapter :) Please leave a comment and/or kudos.  
> RainbowQueen out


	17. Levi's Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I said I was going to do loads of writing these holdiays, what I actually meant was 'I have lots of free time and I'm going to spend ALL of it watching as much hunter x hunter as humanly possible!' Thankfully I got this chapter done anyway, admittedly a bit late... sorry. InsaneFictionGeek shares the blame though. Enjoy the chapter!  
> RainbowQueen out

Levi only hesitated for a second before entering the building. The whole thing had been redone but it still sent a chill through his spine. He wasn't seeing the glass walls or the shining floors or the too-friendly sunlight that warmed the ground floor. Everywhere he looked, all he could see was fire and ash, the ghost of smoke that had once choked his lungs. A dead body here, charred and slumped over the desk, another here with several limbs missing.

A tile crumbles from the roof and hits the floor by his feet. He takes another step in and senses the wave of deja-vous overcoming him. This was where he'd found Auruo and Mike, skin blackened and cracked, and this... this was where he'd found what was left of Petra, lying in the midst of the rubble, fallen from several stories off the collapsed staircase. Blood matted her hair and leaked out the corner of her twisted and mottled mouth, burnt away like the rest of her.

Levi stumbled back, a hand pressed to his mouth, trying desperately not to wretch. He blinked and the vision cleared, but it was still there, lurking in the back of his mind. He set his shoulders and walked forwards again, slipping his hand into his jacket where a knife was concealed. This was his chance. His chance to redeem himself and undo the events of the past. Braun and Hoover had made a mistake in choosing this location.

There was another note on the front desk which had, unsurprisingly, been deserted. Levi picked it up and read the single word scrawled across it.

_Downstairs._

Levi crumpled the note in his hand and let it fall to the ground. The weight of the word it bore should've caused it to hit the ground with a hollow thud, but instead it bounced silently and rolled away.

The only way down to the basement was through a narrow flight of stairs located at the back of the room. Levi supposed the owner's budget hadn't been large enough for them to send the lift down there as well, or maybe finance hadn't covered it. He shrugged and forced himself towards the stairs, opening the door to the stairwell with much more aggression than necessary. This place was giving him the creeps.

He took the stairs two at a time, drawing his knife as he did so. The door at the bottom was ajar. Levi paused and patted his pocket where the envelope was before slipping through it quietly, holding the knife close to his chest like a shield.

In the second that passed before his vision was blocked by a gun-wielding, hulking blonde guy, Levi managed to glimpse his squad, split on either side of the room. One side with Armin and Eren, the other with Annie and Mikasa. The second convict was nowhere to be seen.

"Don't move!" Yelled Reiner Braun.

Levi smirked and made a show of dropping his knife. Reiner stepped up to Levi and quickly patted him down with way more expertise than Levi anticipated. He pulled the envelope from Levi's jacket triumphantly and stepped back, raising his gun again.

Levi ignored him, bending down to take up his knife again. Reiner's hand tightened on the trigger but he made no move to pull it. Levi stepped forward boldly.

"What are you going to do, shoot me?"

"You are going to drop that knife and move back against the wall," commanded Reiner. He was shaking slightly, his gun gripped tightly in his hands.

"No."

Levi took another step forward and once again Reiner failed to pull the trigger. Armin had a firm grip on Eren's arm, preventing him from running forwards, though his face was white with fear. Mikasa was kneeling on the floor behind Reiner, Annie's knife pressed to her throat. Her eyes were blank and expressionless. It didn't take much explaining for Levi to know what had happened there.

"No," Levi repeated. "You're going to hand over that envelope."

He stretched out a hand expectantly. Everyone went still, all eyes trained on the envelope in Reiner’s pocket.

"You bastard," Reiner muttered.

Levi lashed out, one arm coming up to knock the gun out of Reiner's hand, the other reaching down to the floor as he bent over backwards. There was a crack as the gun went off. It was immediately followed by a shrill scream from Armin and Eren whirled around. Armin was kneeling on the floor, his hand pressed to his arm which was now bleeding heavily.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" He panted.

Levi snatched the envelope from Reiner's pocket then kicked him in the stomach, sending him skidding across the ground on his back. Annie shoved Mikasa into the ground before stepping over her prone body, knife pointing at Levi. Levi drew his own. There was a pause before Annie charged Levi.

Levi danced backwards, evading her every strike. Sweat began to drip down Annie's face as she lunged and dodged. Levi leapt over every kick, ducked under every stab and punch she threw. Then, inevitably, the tables turned and Levi was attacking, stabbing and slashing. She hissed as his blade cut her side. It looked like Levi was about to win, it really did. And then the door burst open.

"STOP!"

Berthold was standing in the doorway. There were two children with him. One standing obediently in front of him, the other slung over his shoulder. Bert was holding a gun. Levi froze on the spot. Annie retreated to a safe distance, clutching her side. Levi was paralyzed, staring at the children, eyes wide with horror.

"If- if you take that envelope... If you harm Reiner and Annie-" Berthold waved his gun at the kids and Levi flinched.

Bertl was pale and shaking, his chin was trembling. The girl on his back kicked out, struggling savagely.

"Get off me you bastard! I'll kill you! I'll kill you with one hand!"

"Shut up Isabel!" Hissed the other kid.

Levi was still frozen in place, as if unsure of what to do. His mouth opened slightly and a faint choking noise came out.

"Isabel..." He locked eyes with the boy standing in front of Berthold. "Farlan."

"You know them?" Asked Eren from beside Armin on the floor. Levi ignored him, as usual.

"Dad, don't give it to him!" Said Farlan.

It took everyone a while to realise he was talking to Levi.

"You have fucking KIDS?" Yelled Eren. "You and Petra had KIDS and you didn't even tell us? You basta-"

He was interrupted by Armin’s hard kick to his ankle. Eren came to his senses and shut up abruptly.

"How-" stuttered Levi. "How did you-"

"The evidence!" Yelled Berthold. He lifted Isabel off his back by the scruff of the neck and pressed his gun to her head.

"DAD!" Isabel screamed.

"Three seconds! Three... Two..."

"FINE!" Yelled Levi, tossing the envelope down at Berthold’s feet.

"Take your fucking evidence and go."

Berthold bent down slowly, gun still trained on Isabel, and snatched up the envelope.

"C'mon," he muttered.

Reiner and Annie stood, leaning on each other and pushed past Levi. Berthold gave them all a warning look before shoving both kids at Levi, as if glad to be rid of them. He probably was.

Isabel and Farlan both fell onto Levi, their arms wrapping around his waist. There was a click as the door swung shut and then the scraping of a bolt. Levi sunk onto his knees, pulling both his children into a tight embrace.

" _Mikasa!_ "

Eren sprinted past and threw himself down by Mikasa's side. Her hands were bound together, a thin line of blood was trickling down the corner of her mouth. The red scarf that never left her neck had come askew and was splayed out over the floor. Eren cut her bonds then pulled her up so that she was leaning on his chest and hugged her fiercely. Armin dragged himself over to them with much more difficulty, his arm still bleeding. Eren reached out one hand and tenderly touched Armin's shoulder.

"You should get that looked at," he murmured.

"I can't, stupid. They locked us in."

Eren glared at the door angrily.

"I'm going to kill them. For what they did to you and Mikasa as well as everything else."

"Once again Eren- locked in," Sighed Armin. He shifted slightly and cried out, hand flying to his arm. There were pained tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes. Eren tore a strip from his shirt and held out a hand.

"Here."

"It's only grazed," Armin mumbled, but offered up his wounded arm anyway.

Eren reached out and took hold of it gently. He bandaged Armin's arm awkwardly, one of his own still wrapped protectively around Mikasa. Armin sat patiently, wincing every so often.

As Eren worked, he glanced across the room at Levi. The man was still kneeling, holding his children close. He was talking and despite himself, Eren listened in. He felt he'd earned it after all, especially since Levi had kept even his children a secret from them.

"But how did they know?" Levi was asking. "I've worked so hard to keep you hidden for this exact reason. I thought you said I could trust you."

"It was Isabel," said Farlan immediately. "She answered the phone while you were out."

"Did not!" Yelled Isabel.

"Did to!"

"Who was it Isabel?" Asked Levi, his voice stern.

"The lady said she worked with you."

"Idiot!" Laughed Farlan. "You just gave yourself away."

Isabel hit him over the head. Levi grabbed her hand almost automatically.

"Annie," he murmured.

Eren looked quickly back at Mikasa. She had gone pale, probably not having guessed the extent of Annie's betrayal. She stood up and moved away to a corner. Her stiff body language clearly said 'leave me alone'. Eren had every intention of doing just that, at least until she was ready to talk.

Eren turned away and made eye contact with Armin whose big, blue eyes were wide. He'd obviously been listening too. Eren smiled slightly and finished bandaging Armin's arm with a small flourish.

"Thanks Eren," Armin said quietly.

Eren nodded, maintaining eye contact. Blue into green.

"Armin, there's something I've got to tell you."

"Is now really the time, Eren? I think we should be working out how to escape."

"No," said Eren firmly. "Now is the time. All the time is the time, really. I've just been too scared until now, now that we're finally out of it."

For once, Armin had no reply to that. No snappy comeback or intelligent remark. He leaned forwards slightly, hair falling across his eyes.

"Then tell me."

Eren's mouth had gone dry.

"I think-"

He paused. Could he really say this?

"I think I love you."

"Eren," Armin whispered.

Eren turned his face away, ready for Armin to freak out, to hate him. In the space of five words he had blasted his life-long friendship with Armin into dust.

"Eren you IDIOT!"

Armin launched himself at Eren, hitting him over and over again with his good hand.

"Armin- ow! What?"

"How long?"

Everyone in the room had now turned to watch the display. Eren felt his face begin to heat up and Armin slapped it, gently but angrily.

"I said how long!?"

"Um, about ten years-"

"Oh my god Eren! I knew you were slow- but this? TEN YEARS?"

"I'm sorry for ruining our friendship! I know you probably hate me now-"

Armin grabbed Eren roughly by the shirt collar and pulled him forwards, bringing his mouth up to his. Eren only had a moment to realise what was happening before Armin was kissing him.

And everything felt so right.

His eyes fluttered closed and he leant forwards hungrily- he'd waited so long for this after all. His hand tangled itself in Armin's hair, pulling him closer. He smiled against Armin's mouth.

"I take it you don't hate me then," he murmured.

"Not even close."

They kissed again, their teeth bumping clumsily.

"Oi, brats! Keep it G-rated," Levi called. Beside him Isabel and Farlan looked on with wide eyes.

"G-rated?" Armin whisper-laughed.

"I think he means Gay-rated," Eren sniggered back.

"I can do that."

Levi made a 'tch' noise and turned away. He was so done with these brat's shit. He hadn't run to their aid just so that they could confess their undying love for each other and then make out in the middle of the room- especially with his kids watching! They weren't even ten for fucks sake.

"Daddy?" Said Isabel loudly, tugging on his sleeve.

"What?"

"Is this what you and your boyfriend do?"

Eren and Armin abruptly stopped kissing to gape at him. Even Mikasa glanced around. Levi went red and stuttered angrily.

"Issy, Erwin is not my... my boyfriend."

Both Isabel and Farlan raised their eyebrows, giving him disbelieving looks. Somewhere behind them, Eren wolf whistled. Damn, why were kids so fucking perceptive?

"But you like him?" Asked Farlan.

"We are not going to talk about this right now."

Levi could practically hear the non-existent sighs of disappointment. He ignored them however, he needed to focus on how to get his kids and his goddamn squad out of there safely. Definitely not the time for a heart-to-heart. Behind him, Eren and Armin started kissing again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! Originally this chapter had backflips in it. I know. Backflips. The height of cool. But Somebody made me take them out (cough InsaneFictionGeek cough). I cry. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter, despite the lack of backflips. Thanks!  
> RainbowQueen out


	18. Must be Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh I'm so sorry this is sooo late! A million and one apologies! I took forever to write this and InsaneFictionGeek took forever to edit... it isn't a very interesting chapter I'm afraid. But enjoy anyway!  
> RainbowQueen out

There were many things Jean had never expected to see in life. Until now, Ymir crying had been one of those things.

At first he hadn't fully realised what was going on- they'd killed Krista?- and Ymir had turned her face away which prevented him from reading her expression. When her shoulders started shaking Jean assumed it was because she was laughing because it had to be, it just had to be a joke. Some sick joke Ymir was playing on them.

And then suddenly Ymir was on Marco's shoulder and there were tears wetting his shirt and she was shuddering from the effort of suppressing her own sobbing. Her mouth bent into a wobbly line and she let out a wail that sounded more like an animal than any human.

"I- I left her there alone to f-find you two, a-a-and then I got a c-call from her phone and I picked up and it was some other guy and he said- he said he'd kill her if I d-didn't get you to them. A-a-and I thought I was being clever warning the police before you got there, Jean-" She let out another wail and clutched at Marco's shirt, her fingers going white. "I was so stupid! When Jean was arrested they rang a-again and th-they put Historia on the line and she- she told me to save you and th-then there was a gunshot and- and-"

Marco made some shushing noises and rubbed Ymir on the back as she broke down into uncontrollable, ugly sobbing. Jean didn't ask who Historia was. He remembered clearly that Krista wasn't actually Krista's name. So she was Historia then. Short, brave, kind... dead Historia.

He reached a hand up to his face and it came away wet. He was crying? That couldn't be right. That couldn't be right because Historia wasn't dead and Ymir was just joking.

But Ymir never cried.

Marco looked at him over the top of Ymir's head and there were tears on his cheeks as well. Jean wanted more than anything to wipe those tears away, hug Marco as he was hugging Ymir, tell him it was all a lie, a joke, a dream. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. He sat down heavily on the bed, tormented by his own uselessness.

Ymir suddenly drew herself up, pulling away from Marco. She sniffed loudly and drew a sleeve across her eyes.

"Right. I'm okay now."

They nodded, though they all knew that wasn't the truth. No matter how many walls Ymir put up around herself they knew that inside she was crumbling.

"You'll probably want this back Jean."

Ymir reached into her pocket and pulled out Jean's phone. She tossed it over to him and he caught it, confused.

"How...?"

"You dropped it just before you were arrested. I picked it up for you and sort of... hacked it."

"You hacked my phone?" Jean said, but the indignation he was sure he should be feeling wasn't quite there.

"I only worked out your passcode. I needed to find someone- anyone who could help us. And hey- it worked."

Marco and Jean both frowned. What had Ymir done?

Ymir watched both of their faces and smirked, a small trace of her old self slipping through.

"How do you think I'm here now, dumbass? Do you ever read your texts? Some of your friends had worked the whole thing out; Marco's innocence, your involvement... They were worried about their poor little Jeanbo!"

"Fuck you," muttered Jean.

"Anyway, I filled them in on the details and they came running. So loyal to their pal. Very convenient. They knew exactly where to find you and everything. All I had to do was give this door a little persuasion."

Ymir held up a hairpin which had been expertly bent. Marco looked slightly horrified that Ymir had actually _picked a lock- oh how horrible._ Seriously, the things that horrified Marco always seemed to surprise Jean.

"So where are my friends now?" Jean asked.

"In the car."

That made Jean stop in his tracks. In the car? None of his friends had a car! Only he had a car and that was thanks to his rich as fuck parents. Maybe this was a trap...

"Come on then!"

Ymir turned around quickly and marched off, rubbing a sleeve over her eyes again. Jean was more than impressed with how she was holding up. If it had been Marco who was dead... Jean wasn't sure how he'd go on living.

"I'm only going to stay long enough to help you guys out. Then I'm outta here," Ymir called over her shoulder.

"Where?" Asked Marco.

"I dunno... Somewhere far away from here. I just have to keep moving."

They walked through Reiner and Bertl's deserted house, their footsteps echoing dully through the hall. The whole place was dark and cramped, Bertl's family had obviously been poor before they died. Jean almost felt sorry for him- he'd always lived a much more sheltered life.

They made it to the front door and Jean let out a shaky sigh of relief. Nearly out. Ymir pushed open the door and Jean flinched away from the sudden light, raising a hand to shield his face- seriously, hadn't Bertl heard of windows? When his eyes adjusted the first thing he saw was a car parked outside. His car.

"What the fuck?" He said.

"YO!"

Someone was leaning out of the open window, someone with a ridiculous looking buzz cut. The someone waved and Jean felt his jaw drop.

"Connie!"

"The one and only!" Connie shouted back.

"Don't forget me!"

A girl leaned out the window beside Connie and waved frantically. There was a sandwich clutched in one of her hands. Sasha.

"Connie, Sash!" Jean paused in order to quell his almost embarrassing excitement. "How the hell did you get into my car?"

They both just grinned evilly and slipped back inside the car. Jean tried to scowl after them but ended up grinning. Marco came up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

"These your other friends?"

"Yeah. Hopefully these ones aren't psychotic."

"I doubt it."

Marco's hand slid easily into Jean's and gripped it tight between them. It was as if they'd been holding hands their whole lives. He would have smiled or blushed, only the shock of losing Historia dulled that. He still couldn't believe it.

His eyes turned to Ymir who was standing beside them, annoyance clear on her face. He felt guilty, holding hands so easily after... no, he wasn't going to think about it. It hadn't happened. Definitely.

They crammed into the back seat together and Connie started the ignition. The car shuddered into life with a husky roar.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we've been properly introduced," said Marco, leaning forward to extend a hand between the two front seats. "I'm Marco Bodt. You guys must be Jean's friends, I've heard loads about you!"

Jean turned red and buried his face in his hands.

"Shut up, Marco!"

Sasha turned to grin at him and shook his hand.

"I'm Sasha! And this is my boyfriend, Connie."

"You finally got together?" Asked Jean disbelievingly.

"What do you mean _finally_?"

Jean snorted and turned away.

"Nothing."

Sasha gave him a 'look' and crossed her arms defensively. Marco gave her a sympathetic smile and shrugged, surreptitiously wrapping an arm around Jean's waist (which did not go unnoticed by anyone in the car). Jean blushed and glanced over at Ymir again. Ymir just looked stonily out of the window, eyes blank.

"I still can't believe Reiner and Bertl are bad guys!" said Sasha, breaking the frosty silence that was starting to form, ever so slowly.

"I know," Jean said darkly. "I didn't believe it at first, even when they locked me in that fucking room."

"We only knew because of Ymir."

Jean looked quickly over at Ymir who said without even blinking, "Historia's last words to me were their names. Reiner and Bertholdt."

They all went silent for a minute out of respect for Historia. She had lost her life because of them. It made Jean sick to the stomach. When he spoke again the atmosphere had shifted slightly.

"How did you know where to find me though? Even I didn't know where they lived."

"We followed them home once," Said Sasha shamelessly.

"But I thought... there was a rule- are you fucking kidding me?"

"I fucking kid with you not, Jeanbo," said Sasha. "Unspoken rules are made to be broken."

Connie nodded seriously beside her. Marco's forehead creased up in confusion, it looked seriously cute.

_Goddamnit Jean, pull it together._

"So, Mr Bodt," Said Sasha (Jean groaned silently). "What business have you got with our friend here?"

"Well, I'm hoping to become his boyfriend if we get out of the situation alive."

Connie and Jean both choked and Sasha pressed her hand to her mouth to suppress a giggle.

"That's great Marco! But I was sort of asking why you kidnapped him and stuff... not, well... that."

"Oh- ah," Marco scratched the back of his neck with a bashful smile. "I don't really know. I was on the run from the police after they busted my last hiding place and I saw his face in the window. I wasn't really thinking straight so I just went on over and knocked on the door."

"You passed out on my fucking doorstep!"

"Yeah, that. It's all a bit of a mess really. The police found out after I left and I had to go back to get Jean out of the way. Now we're both on the run and the few police officers who believed us are in danger."

"I guess that's one way to pick up boys."

" _Sasha!_ "

Sasha grinned and reached back to ruffle Jean's hair.

"You're so cute when you're embarrassed!"

"I agree," said Marco, leaning over to kiss Jean's cheek.

"I like this one. Jean, you can keep him."

Ymir suddenly snapped upwards, face angry.

"For the love of god, can't you all just shut the fuck up! You're giving me a headache!"

Sasha retreated, looking fearful. Jean thought absurdly of a cat backing away from a dog and chuckled slightly, wishing Ymir would stay around forever so that he wouldn't have to put up with Connie and Sasha's shit.

"Sorry to interrupt," shouted Connie from the driver's seat, "But where are we actually going?"

Oh yeah. Jean took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Time to take action.

"We're going to save the police from Bertl and Reiner."

"And where's that?"

There was a long, long silence in the car. Everyone stared straight ahead in dawning horror as Connie proceeded to drive in repeated, wobbly circles around a roundabout.

"Fuck."

"We did not think this through," agreed Marco.

Sasha groaned and Connie hit his head against the steering wheel in exasperation. Typical. Ymir pulled out her phone and started tapping on the screen. They listened despairingly as her fingernails clacked in the silence.

"They're there."

"Huh?" Said Jean dumbly.

Ymir held up her phone which was displaying a picture of a map, a little blinking dot against one of the buildings.

"How the fuck-"

"Find my Iphone," Said Ymir simply. "They still have Historia's phone. Maybe if you'd actually thought before rushing off you'd have had the brains to do the same with one of Bertl or Reiner's phones. Dumbasses."

Everybody could only stare in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course Ymir is the only one smart enough to use her brains, despite being dead on the inside (sorry guys I feel evil). Next chapter everyone comes together and it will be great! Until then...  
> RainbowQueen out

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, first chapter a bit boring. I promise it picks up! Anyway, reviews are welcome or whatever it is you guys do on this site. Criticism is also welcome- but no hating! I do not care if haters gonna hate. Rainbows have feelings too! Thanks for reading and everything.  
> -RainbowQueen  
> ~~~  
> What do you think? Tell us in the comments down below or on Tumblr at insanefictiongeek.tumblr.com, and let me know if I missed anything while editing. I hope you enjoyed this fic.  
> Thanks for reading :)  
> InsaneFictionGeek out


End file.
